THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 


«  <*"*•  "BWBY.  IDS  AKGELBS 


By  the  Same  Author 


THE  LOST  NAVAL  PAPERS 

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NEW  YORK  -  E.  P.  BUTTON  &  COMPANY 


THE 

SILENT  WATCHERS 

England's  Navy  during  the  Great  War: 
What  It  Is,  and  What  We  Owe  to  It 

K  f-^U  e, h   Fr&4es+ic.  /C 


BY 

BENNET  COPPLESTONE 

AUTHOR  OP 
"THE  LOST  NAVAL  PAPERS" 


"  The  Navy  is  a  matter  of  machines  only  in 
BO  far  as  human  beings  can  only  achieve  ma- 
terial ends  by  material  means.  I  look  upon 
the  ships  and  the  guns  as  secreted  by  the 
men  just  as  a  tortoise  secretes  its  shelL"— 
PROLOGUE. 


NEW  YORE 

E.  P.  DUTTON  &  COMPANY 

681  FIFTH  AVENUE 


Copyright,  1918 
BY  E.  P.  DUTTON  &  COMPANY 


All  Rights  Reserved 


First    Printing,    Sept.,    1918 
Second  Printing,  Oct.,  1918 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


NOTE 

BETWEEN  June,  1916,  and  February,  1918,  I  con- 
tributed a  good  many  articles  and  sketches  on 
Naval  subjects  to  The  Cornhill  Magazine.  They 
were  not  designed  upon  any  plan  or  published 
in  any  settled  sequence.  As  one  article  led  up 
to  another,  and  information  came  to  me  from  my 
generously  appreciative  readers  (many  of  whom 
were  in  the  Service),  I  revised  those  which  I  had 
written  and  ventured  to  write  still  more.  This 
book  contains  my  Cornhill  articles — revised  and 
sometimes  re-written  in  the  light  of  wider  informa- 
tion and  kindly  criticism — and  several  additional 
chapters  which  have  not  previously  been  published 
anywhere.  I  have  endeavoured  to  weave  into  a 
connected  series  articles  and  sketches  which  were 
originally  disconnected,  and  I  have  introduced 
new  strands  to  give  strength  to  the  fabric.  Through 
the  whole  runs  a  golden  thread  which  I  have 
called  THE  SECRET  OF  THE  NAVY. 

B.  C. 

March,  1918. 


2130541 


CONTENTS 

PROLOGUE 

PAGB 

AFTER  THE  BATTLE        .       .   '   •  .    .  „  •    .        1 

CHAPTER  .         »_ 

I.  A  BAND  OF  BROTHERS 19 

II.  THE  COMING  OF  WAR 43 

III.  THE  GREAT  VICTORY 62 

IV.  WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET:   A  NORTH  SEA 

"STUNT" 81 

V.  WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET:    THE  TERRIERS 

AND  THE  RATS 99 

VI.  THE  MEDITERRANEAN:    A  SUCCESS  AND  A 

FAILURE 114 

VII.  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS:    THE  DISASTER  OFF 

CORONEL 129 

VIII.  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS:  CLEANING  UP     .       .  149 

IX.  How  THE  "SYDNEY"  MET  THE  "EMDEN"  .  174 

X.  FROM  STRENGTH  TO  STRENGTH       .       .       .  196 
XI.  THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "GLASGOW":  PART  I — 

Rio  TO  CORONEL 216 

XII.  THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "GLASGOW":  PART  II — 

CORONEL  TO  JUAN  FERNANDEZ  .       .       .  241 

XIII.  THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS:  PART  I         .  265 

XIV.  THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS:  PART  II       .  288 

EPILOGUE 

LIEUTENANT  C-ESAR     .       .      .      •      ,      .    321 
vii 


LIST  OF  MAPS 

PAGE 

THE  NORTH  SEA 67 

THE  MEDITERRANEAN  OPERATIONS   .       .       .       .119 

THE  SOUTH  SEAS 139 

How  THE  "SYDNEY"  MET  THE  "EMDEN"  .  .  178 
THE  "SYDNEY-EMDEN"  ACTION  .  .  .  .193 
THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "GLASGOW"  ....  219 
THE  PACIFIC:  VON  SPEE'S  CONCENTRATION  .  .  231 
THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "GLASGOW"  ....  253 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS 271 

ix 


THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 


PROLOGUE 

AFTER   THE    BATTLE 

"  CAESAR,"  said  a  Sub-lieutenant  to  his  friend,  a 
temporary  Lieutenant  R.N.V.R.,  who  at  the  out- 
break of  war  had  been  a  classical  scholar  at 
Oxford,  "you  were  in  the  thick  of  our  scrap 
yonder  off  the  Jutland  coast.  You  were  in  it 
every  blessed  minute  with  the  battle  cruisers, 
and  must  have  had  a  lovely  time.  Did  you  ever, 
Caesar,  try  to  write  the  story  of  it?  " 

It  was  early  in  June  of  1916,  and  a  group 
of  officers  had  gathered  near  the  ninth  hole  of 
an  abominable  golf  course  which  they  had  them- 
selves laid  out  upon  an  island  in  the  great  landlocked 
bay  wherein  reposed  from  their  labours  long  lines 
of  silent  ships.  It  was  a  peaceful  scene.  Few 
even  of  the  battleships  showed  the  scars  of  battle, 
though  among  them  were  some  which  the  Germans 
claimed  to  be  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  There 
they  lay,  coaled,  their  magazines  refilled,  ready 
at  short  notice  to  issue  forth  with  every  eager 
man  and  boy  standing  at  his  action  station.  And 
while  all  waited  for  the  next  call,  officers  went 
ashore,  keen,  after  the  restrictions  upon  free 


2  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

exercise,  to  stretch  their  muscles  upon  the  infamous 
golf  course.  It  was,  I  suppose,  one  of  the  very 
worst  courses  in  the  world.  There  were  no  pre- 
pared tees,  no  fairway,  no  greens.  But  there  was 
much  bare  rock,  great  tufts  of  coarse  grass  greedy 
of  balls,  wide  stretches  of  hard,  naked  soil  destruc- 
tive of  wooden  clubs,  and  holes  cut  here  and  there 
of  approximately  the  regulation  size.  Few  officers 
of  the  Grand  Fleet,  except  those  in  Beatty's  Salt 
of  the  Earth  squadrons,  far  to  the  south,  had 
since  the  war  began  been  privileged  to  play  upon 
more  gracious  courses.  But  the  Sea  Service, 
which  takes  the  rough  with  the  smooth,  with 
cheerful  and  profane  philosophy,  accepted  the 
home-made  links  as  a  spirited  triumph  of  the 
handy-man  over  forbidding  nature. 

"Yes,"  said  the  naval  volunteer,  "I  tried  many 
times,  but  gave  up  all  attempts  as  hopeless.  I 
came  up  here  to  get  first-hand  material,  and  have 
sacrificed  my  short  battle  leave  to  no  purpose. 
The  more  I  learn  the  more  helplessly  incapable  I 
feel.  I  can  describe  the  life  of  a  ship,  and  make 
you  people  move  and  speak  like  live  things.  But 
a  battle  is  too  big  for  me.  One  might  as  well  try 
to  realise  and  set  on  paper  the  Day  of  Judgment. 
All  I  did  was  to  write  a  letter  to  an  old  friend,  one 
Copplestone,  beseeching  him  to  make  clear  to  the 
people  at  home  what  we  really  had  done.  I 
wrote  it  three  days  after  the  battle.  Here  it  is." 

Lieutenant  Caesar  drew  a  paper  from  his  pocket 
and  read  as  follows: 

"  MY  DEAR  COPPLESTONE, — Picture  to  yourself 
our  feelings.  On  Wednesday  we  were  in  the  fiery 
hell  of  the  greatest  naval  action  ever  fought.  A 


PROLOGUE:  AFTER  THE  BATTLE     3 

real  Battle  of  the  Giants.  Beatty's  and  Hood's 
battle  cruisers — chaffingly  known  as  the  Salt  of 
the  Earth — and  Evan  Thomas's  squadron  of  four 
fast  Queen  Elizabeths  had  fought  for  two  hours 
the  whole  German  High  Seas  Fleet.  Beatty,  in 
spite  of  his  heavy  losses,  had  outmanoeuvred 
Fritz's  battle  cruisers  and  enveloped  the  German 
line.  The  Fifth  Battle  Squadron  had  stalled  off 
the  German  Main  Fleet,  and  led  them  into  the  net 
of  Jellicoe,  who,  coming  up,  deployed  between 
Evan  Thomas  and  Beatty,  though  he  could  not 
see  either,  crossed  the  T  of  the  Germans  in  the 
beautifullest  of  beautiful  manoeuvres,  and  had  them 
for  a  moment  as  good  as  sunk.  But  the  Lord 
giveth  and  the  Lord  taketh  away;  it  is  sometimes 
difficult  to  say  Blessed  be  the  Name  of  the  Lord. 
For  just  when  we  most  needed  full  visibility  the 
mist  came  down  thick,  the  light  failed,  and  we 
were  robbed  of  the  fruits  of  victory  when  they 
were  almost  in  our  hands.  It  was  hard,  hard, 
bitterly  hard.  But  we  had  done  the  utmost 
which  the  Fates  permitted.  The  enemy,  after 
being  harried  all  night  by  destroyers,  had  got 
away  home  in  torn  rags,  and  we  were  left  in  supreme 
command  of  the  North  Sea,  a  command  more 
complete  and  unchallengeable  than  at  any  moment 
since  the  war  began.  For  Fritz  had  put  out  his 
full  strength,  all  his  unknown  cards  were  on  the 
table,  we  knew  his  strength  and  his  weakness,  and 
that  he  could  not  stand  for  a  moment  against  our 
concentrated  power.  All  this  we  had  done,  and 
rejoiced  mightily.  In  the  morning  we  picked  up 
from  Poldhu  the  German  wireless  claiming  the 
battle  as  a  glorious  victory — at  which  we  laughed 
loudly.  But  there  was  no  laughter  when  in  the 


4  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

afternoon  Poldhu  sent  out  an  official  message 
from  our  own  Admiralty  which,  from  its  clumsy 
wording  and  apologetic  tone,  seemed  actually 
to  suggest  that  we  had  had  the  devil  of  a  hiding. 
Then  when  we  arrived  at  our  bases  came  the 
newspapers  with  their  talk  of  immense  losses, 
and  of  bungling,  and  of  the  Grand  Fleet's  failure! 
Oh,  it  was  a  monstrous  shame!  The  country 
which  depends  utterly  upon  us  for  life  and  honour, 
and  had  trusted  us  utterly,  had  been  struck  to 
the  heart.  We  had  come  back  glowing,  exalted 
by  the  battle,  full  of  admiration  for  the  skill  of 
our  leaders  and  for  the  serene  intrepidity  of  our 
men.  We  had  seen  our  ships  go  down  and  pay 
the  price  of  sea  command — pay  it  willingly  and 
ungrudgingly  as  the  Navy  always  pays.  Nothing 
that  the  enemy  had  done  or  could  do  was  able  to 
hurt  us,  but  we  had  been  mortally  wounded  in  the 
house  of  our  friends.  It  will  take  days,  weeks, 
perhaps  months,  for  England  and  the  world  to  be 
made  to  understand  and  to  do  us  justice.  Do 
what  you  can,  old  man.  Don't  delay  a  minute. 
Get  busy.  You  know  the  Navy,  and  love  it  with 
your  whole  soul.  Collect  notes  and  diagrams  from 
the  scores  of  friends  whom  you  have  in  the  Service; 
they  will  talk  to  you  and  tell  you  everything.  I 
can  do  little  myself.  A  Naval  Volunteer  who 
fought  through  the  action  in  a  turret,  looking 
after  a  pair  of  big  guns,  could  not  himself  see 
anything  outside  his  thick  steel  walls.  Go  ahead 
at  once,  do  knots,  and  the  fighting  Navy  will 
remember  you  in  its  prayers." 

The  attention  of  others  in  the  group  had  been 
drawn  to  the  reader  and  his  letter,  and  when 


PROLOGUE:  AFTER  THE  BATTLE     5 

Lieutenant  Caesar  stopped,  flushed  and  out  of 
breath,  there  came  a  chorus  of  approving  laughter. 

"  This  temporary  gentleman  is  quite  a  literary 
character,"  said  a  two-ring  Lieutenant  who  had 
been  in  an  exposed  spotting  top  throughout  the 
whole  action,  "  but  we've  made  a  Navy  man  of 
him  since  he  joined.  That's  a  dashed  good  letter, 
and  I  hope  you  sent  it." 

"Yes,"  said  Csesar.  "But  while  I  was  hesitat- 
ing, wondering  whether  I  would  risk  the  lightning 
of  the  Higher  Powers,  a  possible  court  martial, 
and  the  loss  of  my  insecure  wavy  rings,  the  business 
was  taken  out  of  my  hands  by  this  same  man 
to  whom  I  was  wanting  to  write.  He  got  moving 
on  his  own  account,  and  now,  though  the  battle 
is  only  ten  days  old,  the  country  knows  the  rights 
of  what  we  did.  When  it  comes  to  describing 
the  battle  itself,  I  make  way  for  my  betters.  For 
what  could  I  see?  On  the  afternoon  of  May  31st, 
we  were  doing  gun  drill  in  my  turret.  Suddenly 
came  an  order  to  put  lyddite  into  the  guns  and 
follow  the  Control.  During  the  next  two  hours 
as  the  battle  developed  we  saw  nothing.  We  were 
just  parts  of  a  big  human  machine  intent  upon 
working  our  own  little  bit  with  faultless  accuracy. 
There  was  no  leisure  to  think  of  anything  but  the 
job  in  hand.  From  beginning  to  end  I  had  no 
suggestion  of  a  thrill,  for  a  naval  action  in  a  turret 
is  just  gun  drill  glorified,  as  I  suppose  it  is  meant 
to  be.  The  enemy  is  not  seen;  even  the  explosions 
of  the  guns  are  scarcely  heard.  I  never  took  my 
ear-protectors  from  their  case  hi  my  pocket.  All 
is  quiet,  organised  labour,  sometimes  very  hard 
labour  when  for  any  reason  one  has  to  hoist  the 
great  shells  by  the  hand  purchase.  It  is  extraor- 


6  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

dinary  to  think  that  I  got  fifty  times  more  act- 
ual excitement  out  of  a  squadron  regatta  months 
ago  than  out  of  the  greatest  battle  in  naval  history." 
"That's  quite  true,"  said  the  Spotting  Officer, 
"and  quite  to  be  expected.  Battleship  fighting  is 
not  thrilling  except  for  the  very  few.  For  nine- 
tenths  of  the  officers  and  men  it  is  a  quiet,  almost 
dull  routine  of  exact  duties.  For  some  of  us  up 
in  exposed  positions  in  the  spotting  tops  or  on  the 
signal  bridge,  with  big  shells  banging  on  the 
armour  or  bursting  alongside  in  the  sea,  it  becomes 
mighty  wetting  and  very  prayerful.  For  the  still 
fewer,  the  real  fighters  of  the  ship  in  the  conning 
tower,  it  must  be  absorbingly  interesting.  But 
for  the  true  blazing  rapture  of  battle  one  has  to 
go  to  the  destroyers.  In  a  battleship  one  lives 
like  a  gentleman  until  one  is  dead,  and  takes  the 
deuce  of  a  lot  of  killing.  In  a  destroyer  one  lives 
rather  like  a  pig,  and  one  dies  with  extraordinary 
suddenness.  Yet  the  destroyer  officers  and  men 
have  their  reward  in  a  battle,  for  then  they  drink 
deep  of  the  wine  of  life.  I  would  sooner  any  day 
take  the  risks  of  destroyer  work,  tremendous 
though  they  are,  just  for  the  fun  which  one  gets 
out  of  it.  It  was  great  to  see  our  boys  round  up 
Fritz's  little  lot.  While  you  were  in  your  turret, 
and  the  Sub.  yonder  in  control  of  a  side  battery, 
Fritz  massed  his  destroyers  like  Prussian  infantry 
and  tried  to  rush  up  close  so  as  to  strafe  us  with 
the  torpedo.  Before  they  could  get  fairly  going, 
our  destroyers  dashed  at  them,  broke  up  their 
masses,  buffeted  and  hustled  them  about  exactly 
like  a  pack  of  wolves  worrying  sheep,  and  with 
exactly  the  same  result.  Fritz's  destroyers  either 
clustered  together  like  sheep  or  scattered  flying 


PROLOGUE:  AFTER  THE  BATTLE     7 

to  the  four  winds.  It  was  just  the  same  with  the 
light  cruisers  as  with  the  destroyers.  Fritz  could 
not  stand  against  us  for  a  moment,  and  could  not 
get  away,  for  we  had  the  heels  of  him  and  the 
guns  of  him.  There  was  a  deadly  slaughter  of 
destroyers  and  light  cruisers  going  on  while  we 
were  firing  our  heavy  stuff  over  their  heads.  Even 
if  we  had  sunk  no  battle  cruisers  or  battleships, 
the  German  High  Seas  Fleet  would  have  been 
crippled  for  months  by  the  destruction  of  its 
indispensable  '  cavalry  screen.' ' 

As  the  Spotting  Officer  spoke,  a  Lieutenant- 
Commander  holed  out  on  the  last  jungle  with  a 
mashie — no  one  uses  a  putter  on  the  Grand  Fleet's 
private  golf  course — and  approached  our  group, 
who,  while  they  talked,  were  busy  over  a  picnic 
lunch. 

"  If  you  pigs  haven't  finished  all  the  bully  beef 
and  hard  tack,"  said  he,  "perhaps  you  can  spare 
a  bite  for  one  of  the  blooming  'eroes  of  the  X 
Destroyer  Flotilla."  The  speaker  was  about 
twenty-seven,  in  rude  health,  and  bore  no  sign  of 
the  nerve-racking  strain  through  which  he  had 
passed  for  eighteen  long-drawn  hours.  The  young 
Navy  is  as  unconscious  of  nerves  as  it  is  of  indiges- 
tion. The  Lieutenant-Commander,  his  hunger  sat- 
isfied, lighted  a  pipe  and  joined  in  the  talk. 

"It  was  hot  work,"  said  he,  "but  great  sport. 
We  went  in  sixteen  and  came  out  a  round  dozen. 
If  Fritz  had  known  his  business,  I  ought  to  be 
dead.  He  can  shoot  very  well  till  he  hears  the 
shells  screaming  past  his  ears,  and  then  his  nerves 
go.  Funny  thing  how  wrong  we've  been  about 
him.  He  is  smart  to  look  at,  fights  well  in  a 
crowd,  but  cracks  when  he  has  to  act  on  his  own 


8  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

without  orders.  When  we  charged  his  destroyers 
and  ran  right  in  he  just  crumpled  to  bits.  We 
had  a  batch  of  him  nicely  herded  up,  and  were 
laying  him  out  in  detail  with  guns  and  mouldies, 
when  there  came  along  a  beastly  intrusive  Control 
Officer  on  a  battle  cruiser  and  took  him  out  of 
our  mouths.  It  was  a  sweet  shot,  though.  Some- 
one— I  don't  know  his  name,  or  he  would  hear  of 
his  deuced  interference  from  me — plumped  a  salvo 
of  12-inch  common  shell  right  into  the  brown  of 
Fritz's  huddled  batch.  Two  or  three  of  his 
destroyers  went  aloft  in  scrap-iron,  and  half  a 
dozen  others  were  disabled.  After  the  first  hour 
his  destroyers  and  light  cruisers  ceased  to  be  on 
the  stage;  they  had  flown  quadrivious — there's  an 
ormolu  word  for  our  classical  volunteer — and  we 
could  have  a  whack  at  the  big  ships.  Later,  at 
night,  it  was  fine.  We  ran  right  in  upon  Fritz's 
after-guard  of  sound  battleships  and  rattled  them 
most  tremendous.  He  let  fly  at  us  writh  every 
bally  gun  he  had,  from  4-inch  to  14,  and  we  were 
a  very  pretty  mark  under  his  searchlights.  We 
ought  to  have  been  all  laid  out,  but  our  loss  was 
astonishingly  small,  and  we  strafed  two  of  his 
heavy  ships.  Most  of  his  shots  went  over  us." 

"Yes,"  called  out  the  Spotting  Officer,  "yes, 
they  did,  and  ricochetted  all  round  us  in  the 
Queen  Elizabeths.  There  was  the  devil  of  a  row. 
The  firing  in  the  main  action  was  nothing  to  it. 
All  the  while  you  were  charging,  and  our  guns 
were  masked  for  fear  of  hitting  you,  Fritz's  bonbons 
were  screaming  over  our  upper  works  and  making 
us  say  our  prayers  out  loud  in  the  Spotting  Tops. 
You'd  have  thought  we  were  at  church.  I  was 
in  the  devil  of  a  funk,  and  could  hear  my  teeth 


PROLOGUE:  AFTER  THE  BATTLE     9 

rattling.  It  is  when  one  is  fired  on  and  can't  hit 
back  that  one  thinks  of  one's  latter  end." 

"Did  any  of  you  see  the  Queen  Mary  go?" 
asked  a  tall  thin  man  with  the  three  rings  of  a 
Commander.  "Our  little  lot  saw  nothing  of  the 
first  part  of  the  battle;  we  were  with  the  K.G. 
Fives  and  Orions." 

"I  saw  her,"  spoke  a  Gunnery  Lieutenant,  a 
small,  quiet  man  with  dreamy,  introspective  eyes 
—the  eyes  of  a  poet  turned  gunner.  "I  saw  her. 
She  was  hit  forrard,  and  went  in  five  seconds. 
You  all  know  how.  It  was  a  thing  which  won't 
bear  talking  about.  The  Invincible  took  a  long 
time  to  sink,  and  was  still  floating  bottom  up 
when  Jellicoe's  little  lot  came  in  to  feed  after  we 
and  the  Salt  of  the  Earth  had  eaten  up  most  of 
the  dinner.  I  don't  believe  that  half  the  Grand 
Fleet  fired  a  shot." 

There  came  a  savage  growl  from  officers  of  the 
main  Battle  Squadrons,  who,  invited  to  a  choice 
banquet,  had  seen  it  all  cleared  away  before  their 
arrival.  "That's  all  very  well,"  grumbled  one 
of  them;  "the  four  Q.E.s  are  getting  a  bit  above 
themselves  because  they  had  the  luck  of  the  fair. 
They  didn't  fight  the  High  Seas  Fleet  by  their 
haughty  selves  because  they  wanted  to,  you  bet." 

The  Gunnery  Lieutenant  with  the  dreamy  eyes 
smiled.  "We  certainly  shouldn't  have  chosen  that 
day  to  fight  them  on.  But  if  the  Queen  Elizabeth 
herself  had  been  with  us,  and  we  had  had  full 
visibility — with  the  horizon  a  hard  dark  line — we 
would  have  willingly  taken  on  all  Fritz's  12-inch 
Dreadnoughts  and  thrown  in  his  battle  cruisers." 

"That's  the  worst  of  it,"  grumbled  the  Com- 
mander, very  sore  still  at  having  tasted  only  of 


10  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

the  skim  milk  of  the  battle;  "naval  war  is  now 
only  a  matter  of  machines.  The  men  don't  count 
as -they  did  in  Nelson's  day." 

"Excuse  me,  sir,"  remarked  the  Sub-Lieutenant; 
"may  I  say  a  word  or  two  about  that?  I  have 
been  thinking  it  out." 

There  came  a  general  laugh.  The  Sub-Lieuten- 
ant, twenty  years  of  age,  small  and  dark  and  with 
the  bright  black  eyes  of  his  mother — a  pretty  little 
lady  from  the  Midi  de  la  France  whom  his  father 
had  met  and  married  in  Paris — did  not  look  like  a 
philosopher,  but  he  had  the  clear-thinking,  logical 
mind  of  his  mother's  people. 

"Think  aloud,  my  son,"  said  the  Commander. 
"As  a  living  incarnation  of  PEntente  Cordiale,  you 
are  privileged  above  those  others  of  the  gun-room." 

The  light  in  the  Sub's  eyes  seemed  to  die  out 
as  his  gaze  turned  inwards.  He  spoke  slowly, 
carefully,  sometimes  injecting  a  word  from  his 
mother's  tongue  which  could  better  express  his 
meaning.  He  looked  all  the  while  towards  the 
sea,  and  seemed  scarcely  to  be  conscious  of  an 
audience  of  seniors.  His  last  few  sentences  were 
spoken  wholly  in  French. 

"No — naval  war  is  a  war  of  men,  as  it  always 
was  and  always  will  be.  For  what  are  the  machines 
but  the  material  expression  of  the  souls  of  the 
men?  Our  ships  are  better  and  faster  than  the 
German  ships,  our  guns  heavier  and  more  accurate 
than  theirs,  our  gunners  more  deadly  than  their 
gunners,  because  our  Navy  has  the  greater  human 
soul.  The  Royal  Navy  is  not  a  collection  of 
lifeless  ships  and  guns  imposed  upon  men  by 
some  external  power  as  the  Kaiser  sought  to  impose 
a  fleet  upon  the  Germans,  a  nation  of  landsmen. 


PROLOGUE:  AFTER  THE  BATTLE    11 

The  Navy  is  a  matter  of  machines  only  in  so  far 
as  human  beings  can  only  achieve  material  ends 
by  material  means.  I  look  upon  the  ships  and 
guns  as  secreted  by  the  men  just  as  a  tortoise 
secretes  its  shell.  They  are  the  products  of  naval 
thought,  and  naval  brains,  and,  above  all,  of  that 
ever-expanding  naval  soul  ($ esprit)  which  has  been 
growing  for  a  thousand  years.  Our  ships  yonder 
are  materially  new,  the  products  almost  of  yester- 
day, but  really  they  are  old,  centuries  old;  they 
are  the  expression  of  a  naval  soul  working,  fer- 
menting, always  growing  through  the  centuries, 
always  seeking  to  express  itself  in  machinery. 
Naval  war  is  an  art,  the  art  of  men,  and  where 
in  the  world  will  one  find  men  like  ours,  officers 
like  ours?  Have  you  ever  thought  whence  come 
those  qualities  which  one  sees  glowing  every  day 
in  our  men,  from  the  highest  Admiral  to  the 
smallest  ship  boy — have  you  ever  thought  whence 
they  come?  " 

He  paused,  still  looking  out  to  sea.  His  com- 
panions, all  of  them  his  superiors  in  rank  and 
experience,  stared  at  him  in  astonishment,  and  one 
or  two  laughed.  But  the  Commander  signalled 
for  silence.  "Et  apres,"  he  asked  quietly;  "d'ou 
viennent  ces  qualit£s?"  Unconsciously  he  had 
sloughed  the  current  naval  slang  and  spoke  in  the 
native  language  of  the  Sub. 

The  effect  was  not  what  he  had  expected.  At 
the  sound  of  the  Commander's  voice  speaking  in 
French  the  Sub-Lieutenant  woke  up,  flushed,  and 
instantly  reverted  to  his  English  self.  "I  am 
sorry,  sir.  I  got  speaking  French,  in  which  I 
always  think,  and  when  I  talk  French  I  talk  the 
most  frightful  rot." 


12  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

"I  am  not  so  sure  that  it  was  rot.  Your  theory 
seems  to  be  that  we  are,  in  the  naval  sense,  the 
heirs  of  the  ages,  and  that  no  nation  that  has 
not  been  through  our  centuries-old  mill  can  hope 
to  stand  against  us.  I  hope  that  you  are  right. 
It  is  a  comforting  theory." 

"But  isn't  that  what  we  all  think,  sir,  though 
we  may  not  put  it  quite  that  way?  Most  of  us 
know  that  our  officers  and  men  are  of  unapproach- 
able stuff  in  body  and  mind,  but  we  don't  seek 
for  a  reason.  We  accept  it  as  an  axiom.  I've 
tried  to  reason  the  thing  out  because  I'm  half 
French;  and  also  because  I've  been  brought  up 
among  dogs  and  horses  and  believe  thoroughly  in 
heredity.  It's  all  a  matter  of  breeding." 

"The  Sub's  right,"  broke  in  the  Gunnery 
Lieutenant  with  the  poet's  eyes;  "though  a  Sub 
who  six  months  ago  was  a  snotty  has  no  business 
to  think  of  anything  outside  his  duty.  The  Service 
would  go  to  the  devil  if  the  gun-room  began  to 
talk  psychology.  We  excuse  it  in  this  Sub  here 
for  the  sake  of  the  Entente  Cordiale,  of  which  he 
is  the  living  embodiment;  but  had  any  other 
jawed  at  us  in  that  style  I  would  have  sat  upon 
his  head.  Of  course  he  is  right,  though  it  isn't 
our  English  way  to  see  through  things  and  define 
them  as  the  French  do.  No  race  on  earth  can 
touch  us  for  horses  or  dogs  or  prize  cattle — or 
Navy  men.  It  takes  centuries  to  breed  the  boys 
who  ran  submarines  through  the  Dardanelles  and 
the  Sound  and  stayed  out  in  narrow  enemy  waters 
for  weeks  together.  Brains  and  nerves  and  sea 
skill  can't  be  made  to  order  even  by  a  German 
Kaiser.  Navy  men  should  marry  young  and 
choose  their  women  from  sea  families;  and  then 


PROLOGUE:  AFTER  THE  BATTLE    13 

their  kids  won't  need  to  be  taught.  They'll  have 
the  secret  of  the  Service  in  their  blood." 

"That's  all  very  fine,"  observed  a  Marine 
Lieutenant  reflectively;  "but  who  is  going  to 
pay  for  it  all?  We  can't.  I  get  7s.  Qd.  a  day, 
and  shall  have  11s.  in  a  year  or  two;  it  sounds 
handsome,  but  would  hardly  run  to  a  family. 
Few  in  the  Navy  have  any  private  money,  so  how 
can  we  marry  early?  " 

"Of  course  we  can't  as  things  go  now,"  said 
the  Gunnery  Lieutenant.  "But  some  day  even 
the  Admiralty  will  discover  that  the  English  Navy 
will  become  a  mere  list  of  useless  machines  unless 
the  English  naval  families  can  be  kept  up  on 
the  lower  deck  as  well  as  in  the  ward-room  and 
gun-room.  Why,  look  at  the  names  of  our  sub- 
marine officers  whenever  they  get  into  the  papers 
for  honours.  They  are  always  salt  of  the  sea, 
names  which  have  been  in  the  Navy  List  ever 
since  there  was  a  List.  You  may  read  the  same 
names  in  the  Trafalgar  roll  and  back  to  the  Dutch 
wars.  Most  of  us  were  Pongos  before  that — shore 
Pongos  who  went  afloat  with  Blake  or  Prince 
Rupert — but  then  we  became  sailors,  and  so 
remained,  father  to  son.  I  can  only  go  back 
myself  to  the  Glorious  First  of  June,  but  some  of 
us  here  in  the  Grand  Fleet  date  from  the  Stuarts 
at  least.  It  is  jolly  fine  to  be  of  Navy  blood, 
but  not  all  plum  jam.  One  has  such  a  devil  of 
a  record  to  live  up  to.  In  my  term  at  Dartmouth 
there  was  a  poor  little  beast  called  Francis  Drake 
— a  real  Devon  Drake,  a  genuine  antique — but 
what  a  load  of  a  name  to  carry!  Thank  God,  my 
humble  name  doesn't  shine  out  of  the  history 
books.  And  as  with  the  officers,  so  with  the  sea- 


14  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

men.  Half  of  them  come  from  my  own  country 
of  Devon — the  cradle  of  the  Navy.  They  are  in 
the  direct  line  from  Drake's  buccaneers.  Most 
of  the  others  come  from  the  ancient  maritime 
counties  of  the  Channel  seaboard,  where  the  blood 
of  everyone  tingles  with  Navy  salt.  The  Germans 
can  build  ships  which  are  more  or  less  accurate 
copies  of  our  own,  but  they  can't  breed  the  men. 
That  is  the  whole  secret." 

The  Lieutenant-Commander,  whose  war-scarred 
destroyer  lay  below  refitting,  laughed  gently. 
"There's  a  lot  in  all  that,  more  than  we  often 
realise  when  we  grumble  at  the  cursed  obstinacy 
of  our  old  ratings,  but  even  you  do  not  go  back 
far  enough.  It  is  the  old  blood  of  the  Vikings 
and  sea-pirates  in  us  English  which  makes  us 
turn  to  the  sea;  the  rest  is  training.  In  no  other 
way  can  you  explain  the  success  of  the  Fringes, 
the  mine-sweepers,  and  patrols,  most  of  them 
manned  by  naval  volunteers  who,  before  the  war, 
had  never  served  under  the  White  Ensign  nor 
seen  a  shot  fired.  What  is  our  classical  scholar 
here,  Caesar,  but  a  naval  volunteer  whom  Whale 
Island  and  natural  intelligence  have  turned  into  a 
gunner?  But  as  regards  the  regular  Navy,  the 
Navy  of  the  Grand  Fleet,  you  are  right.  Pick 
your  boys  from  the  sea  families,  catch  them  young, 
pump  them  full  to  the  teeth  with  the  Navy  Spirit 
— I'esprit  marin  of  our  bi-lingual  Sub  here — make 
them  drunk  with  it.  Then  they  are  all  right. 
But  they  must  never  be  allowed  to  think  of  a 
darned  thing  except  of  the  job  in  hand.  The  Navy 
has  no  use  for  men  who  seek  to  peer  into  their 
own  souls.  They  might  do  it  in  action  and  dis- 
cover blue  funk.  W7e  want  them  to  be  no  more 


PROLOGUE:  AFTER  THE  BATTLE    15 

conscious  of  their  souls  than  of  their  livers.  Though 
I  admit  that  it  is  devilish  difficult  to  forget  one's 
liver  when  one  has  been  cooped  up  in  a  destroyer 
for  a  week.  It  is  not  nerve  that  Fritz  lacks  so 
much  as  a  kindly  obedient  liver.  He  is  an  iron- 
gutted  swine,  and  that  is  partly  why  he  can't 
run  destroyers  and  submarines  against  us.  The 
German  liver  is  a  thing  to  wonder  at.  Do  you 

know "  but  here  the  Lieutenant-Commander 

became  too  Rabelaisian  for  my  delicate  pen. 

The  group  had  thinned  out  during  this  exercise 
in  naval  analysis.  Several  of  the  officers  had 
resumed  their  heart-and-club-breaking  struggle 
with  the  villainous  golf  course,  but  the  Sub,  the 
volunteer  Lieutenant,  and  the  Pongo  (Marine) 
still  sat  at  the  feet  of  their  seniors.  "May  I  say 
how  the  Navy  strikes  an  outsider  like  me?" 
asked  Csesar  diffidently.  Whale  Island,  which 
had  forgotten  all  other  Latin  authors,  had  given 
him  the  name  as  appropriate  to  one  of  his  learning. 

"Go  ahead,"  said  the  Commander  generously. 
"All  this  stuff  is  useful  enough  for  a  volunteer; 
without  the  Pongos  and  Volunteers  to  swallow 
our  tall  stories,  the  Navy  would  fail  of  an  audience. 
The  snotties  know  too  much." 

"I  was  going  to  speak  of  the  snotties,"  said 
Caesar,  "who  seem  to  me  to  be  even  more  typical 
of  the  Service  than  the  senior  officers.  They  have 
all  its  qualities,  emphasised,  almost  comically 
exaggerated.  I  do  not  know  whether  they  are 
never  young  or  that  they  never  grow  old,  but  there 
is  no  essential  difference  in  age  and  in  knowledge 
between  a  snotty  six  months  out  of  cadet  training 
and  a  Commander  of  six  years'  standing.  They 
rag  after  dinner  with  equal  zest,  and  seem  to  be 


16  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

equally  well  versed  in  the  profound  technical 
details  of  their  sea  work.  Perhaps  it  is  that  they 
are  born  full  of  knowledge.  The  snotties  interest 
me  beyond  every  type  that  I  have  met.  Their 
manners  are  perfect  and  in  startling  contrast  with 
those  of  the  average  public  school  boy  of  fifteen 
or  sixteen — even  in  College  at  Winchester — and 
they  combine  then*  real  irresponsible  youthfulness 
with  a  grave  mask  of  professional  learning  which 
is  delightful  to  look  upon.  I  have  before  me  the 
vision  of  a  child  of  fifteen  with  tousled  yellow 
hah1  and  a  face  as  glum  as  a  sea-boot,  sitting 
opposite  to  me  in  the  machine  which  took  us 
back  one  day  to  the  boat,  smoking  a  'fag'  with 
the  clumsiness  which  betrayed  his  lack  of  practice, 
in  between  bites  of  'goo'  (in  this  instance  Turkish 
Delight),  of  which  I  had  seen  him  consume  a 
pound.  He  looked  about  ten  years  old,  and  in  a 
husky,  congested  voice,  due  to  the  continual 
absorption  of  sticky  food,  he  described  minutely 
to  me  the  method  of  conning  a  battleship  in 
manosuvres  and  the  correct  amount  to  allow  for 
the  inertia  of  the  ship  when  the  helm  is  centred; 
he  also  explained  the  tactical  handling  of  a  squadron 
during  sub-calibre  firing.  That  snotty  was  a  sheer 
joy,  and  the  Navy  is  full  of  him.  He's  gone 
himself,  poor  little  chap — blown  to  bits  by  a  shell 
which  penetrated  the  deck." 

"In  time,  Csesar,"  said  the  Commander,  "by 
strict  attention  to  duty  you  will  become  a  Navy 
man.  But  we  have  talked  enough  of  deep  mys- 
teries. It  was  that  confounded  Sub,  with  his 
French  imagination,  who  started  us.  What  I 
really  wish  someone  would  tell  me  is  this:  what 
was  the  'northern  enterprise'  that  Fritz  was 


PROLOGUE:  AFTER  THE  BATTLE    17 

on    when    we    chipped    in    and    spoilt    his    little 
game?" 


i .  • 


:It  does  not  matter,"  said  the  Gunnery  Lieuten- 
ant. "We  spoilt  it,  anyhow.  The  dear  old 
newspapers  talk  of  his  losses  in  big  ships  as  if 
they  were  all  that  counted.  What  has  really 
crippled  him  has  been  the  wiping  out  of  his  de- 
stroyers and  fast  new  cruisers.  Without  them  he 
is  helpless.  It  was  a  great  battle,  much  more 
decisive  than  most  people  think,  even  in  the 
Grand  Fleet  itself.  It  was  as  decisive  by  sea  as 
the  Marne  was  by  land.  We  have  destroyed 
Fritz's  mobility." 

The  men  rose  and  looked  out  over  the  bay. 
There  below  them  lay  their  sea  homes,  serene, 
invulnerable,  and  about  them  stretched  the  dull, 
dour,  treeless  landscape  of  their  northern  fastness. 
Their  minds  were  as  peaceful  as  the  scene.  As  they 
looked  a  bright  light  from  the  compass  platform 
of  one  of  the  battleships  began  to  flicker  through 
the  sunshine — dash,  dot,  dot,  dash.  "There  goes 
a  signal,"  said  the  Commander.  "You  are  great 
at  Morse,  Pongo.  Read  what  it  says,  my 
son." 

The  Lieutenant  of  Marines  watched  the  flashes, 
and  as  he  read  grinned  capaciously.  "It  is  some 
wag  with  a  signal  lantern,"  said  he.  "It  reads: 
Question — Daddy, —  what  — did — you — do —  in — 
the— Great— War?" 

"I  wonder,"  observed  the  Sub-Lieutenant,  "what 
new  answer  the  lower  deck  has  found  to  that 
question.  Before  the  battle  their  reply  was:  'I 
was  kept  doubling  round  the  decks,  sonny.' >; 

"There  goes  the  signal  again,"  said  the  Pongo; 
"and  here  comes  the  answer."  He  read  it  out 


18  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

slowly  as  it  flashed  word  after  word:    "  'I  LAID 

THE   GUNS  TKUE,    SONNY.' 

"And  a  dashed  good  answer,  too,"  cried  the 
Commander  heartily. 

"That  would  make  a  grand  fleet  signal  before  a 
general  action,"  remarked  the  Gunnery  Lieutenant. 
"I  don't  care  much  for  Nelson's  Trafalgar  signal. 
It  was  too  high-flown  and  sentimental  for  the 
lower  deck.  It  was  aimed  at  the  history  books, 
rather  than  at  old  tarry-breeks  of  the  fleet  a 
hundred  years  ago.  No — there  could  not  be  a 
better  signal  than  just  'Lay  the  Guns  True' — 
carry  out  your  orders  precisely,  intelligently,  fault- 
lessly. What  do  you  say,  my  Hun  of  a  classical 
volunteer?  " 

"It  could  not  be  bettered,"  said  Caesar. 

"I  will  make  a  note  of  it,"  said  the  Gunnery 
Lieutenant,  "against  the  day,  when  as  a  future 
Jellicoe,  I  myself  shall  lead  a  new  Grand  Fleet  into 
action." 


CHAPTER  I 

A   BAND   OF   BROTHERS 
"We  few,  we  happy  few,  we  band  of  brothers." — King  Henry  V. 

MY  boyhood  was  spent  in  Devon,  the  land  of 
Drake  and  the  home  of  the  Elizabethan  Navy. 
A  deep  passion  for  the  Sea  Service  is  in  my  blood, 
though,  owing  to  family  circumstances,  I  was 
not  able  to  indulge  my  earliest  ambition  to  become 
myself  one  of  the  band  of  brothers  who  serve  under 
the  White  Ensign.  My  elder  brother  lived  and 
died  afloat.  Two  of  my  sons,  happier  than  their 
father,  are  privileged  to  play  their  parts  in  the 
great  ships  of  the  Fleets.  So  that,  though  not 
in  the  Service,  I  am  of  it,  by  ties  of  blood  and 
by  ties  of  the  earliest  association.  Whenever  I 
have  sought  to  penetrate  its  mysteries  and  to 
interpret  them  to  my  fellow  countrymen,  my 
motive  has  never  been  that  of  mere  idle  curiosity. 
The  Royal  Navy  wields,  and  has  always  wielded, 
a  great  material  force,  but  the  secret  of  its  strength 
lies  not  in  the  machines  with  which  it  has  equipped 
itself  in  the  various  stages  of  its  development. 
Vast  and  terrible  as  are  the  ships  and  the  guns, 
they  would  be  of  little  worth  if  their  design  and 
skilful  employment  were  not  inspired  by  that 
spiritual  force,  compounded  of  tradition,  training, 
devotion  and  discipline,  which  I  call  the  Soul  of 

19 


20  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

the  Navy.  In  the  design  of  its  weapons,  in  its 
mastery  of  their  use,  above  all  in  its  consummate 
seamanship,  the  Royal  Navy  has  in  all  ages  sur- 
passed its  opponents;  but  it  has  done  these  things 
not  through  some  fortuitous  gift  of  the  Sea  Gods, 
but  because  of  the  never-failing  development  of 
its  own  spirit.  It  has  always  been  at  a  great 
price,  in  the  sacrifice  of  ease  and  in  the  outpour- 
ing of  the  lives  of  men,  that  the  Navy  has  won 
for  itself  and  for  us  the  freedom  of  the  seas. 
Those  who  reckon  navies  in  ships  and  guns,  in 
weight  of  metal  and  in  broadside  fire,  while 
leaving  out  of  account  the  spirit  and  training 
and  devotion  of  the  men,  can  never  understand 
the  Soul  of  the  Navy.  For  all  these  material 
things  are  the  expression  of  the  Soul;  they  are 
not  the  Soul  itself. 

The  Navy  is  still  the  old  English  Navy  of  the 
southern  maritime  counties  of  England.  It  has 
become  the  Navy  of  Great  Britain,  the  Navy  of 
the  British  Empire,  but  in  spirit,  and  to  a  large 
extent  in  hereditary  personnel,  it  remains  the 
English  Navy  of  the  Narrow  Seas.  Many  counties 
play  a  great  part  in  its  equipment,  but  to  me 
it  is  always  the  Navy  of  my  own  land  of  Devon; 
officers  and  men  are  the  lineal  successors  of  those 
bold  West  Country  seamen  who  in  their  frail 
barks  ranged  the  wide  seas  hundreds  of  years  ago 
and  first  taught  to  us  and  to  the  world  the  meaning 
of  the  expression  "sea  communications." 

There  is  not  an  officer  in  the  permanent  service 
of  the  Fleets  of  to-day  who  was  not  trained  in 
Devon.  On  the  southern  seaboard  of  that  county, 
set  upon  a  steep  slope  overlooking  the  mouth  of 
the  most  lovely  of  rivers,  stands  the  Naval  College 


A  BAND  OF  BROTHERS  21 

in  which  are  being  trained  those  who  will  guide 
our  future  Fleets.  A  little  way  to  the  west  lies  one 
of  the  greatest  of  naval  ports  and  arsenals.  From 
my  county  of  Devon  comes  half  the  Navy  of 
to-day,  half  the  men  of  the  Fleet,  be  they  warrant 
officers,  seamen  or  engineers.  The  atmosphere 
of  Devon,  soft  and  sleepy  as  it  may  appear  to  a 
stranger,  is  electric  with  the  spirit  of  Drake, 
which  is  the  spirit  of  Nelson,  which  is  the  spirit 
of  the  boys  of  Dartmouth.  For  generation  after 
generation,  in  the  old  wooden  hulks  Britannia 
and  Hindustan,  and  afterwards  in  the  Naval 
College  on  the  heights,  the  cadets  during  their 
most  impressionable  years  have  breathed  in  the 
spirit  of  the  Navy.  I  have  often  visited  them 
there  and  loved  them;  my  brother,  who  worked 
among  them  and  taught  them,  died  there,  and 
is  buried  in  the  little  cemetery  which  crowns  the 
hill  where,  years  ago  in  a  blinding  snowstorm,  I 
stood  beside  his  open  grave  and  heard  the  Last 
Post  wail  above  his  body.  I  have  always  envied 
him  that  great  privilege,  to  die  in  the  service  of 
the  Navy  and  to  be  buried  within  hail  of  the  boys 
whom  he  loved. 

The  cadets  of  Dartmouth  have  learned  that  the 
Sea  Service  is  an  exacting  and  most  jealous  mistress 
who  brooks  no  rival.  They  have  learned  that 
the  Service  is  everything  and  themselves  nothing. 
They  have  learned  that  only  by  humbly  submitting 
themselves  to  be  absorbed  into  the  Service  can 
they  be  deemed  to  be  worthy  of  that  Service. 
The  discipline  of  the  Navy  is  no  cast-iron  system 
imposed  by  force  and  punishment  upon  unwilling 
men ;  there  is  nothing  in  it  of  Prussian  Militarism. 
It  is  rather  the  willing  subordination  of  proud 


22  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

free  men  to  the  dominating  interests  of  a  Service 
to  which  they  have  dedicated  their  lives.  The 
note  of  their  discipline  is  "The  Service  first,  last, 
and  all  the  time."  The  Navy  resembles  somewhat 
a  religious  Order,  but  in  the  individual  subordina- 
tion of  body,  heart,  brains  and  soul  there  is  nothing 
of  servitude.  The  Naval  officer  is  infinitely  proud 
and  infinitely  humble.  Infinitely  proud  of  his 
Service,  infinitely  humble  in  himself.  If  an  officer 
through  error,  however  pardonable,  loses  his 
ship — and  very  young  officers  have  command  of 
ships — and  in  the  stern,  though  always  sympa- 
thetic, judgment  of  his  fellows  he  must  temporarily 
be  put  upon  the  shelf,  he  does  not  grumble  or 
repine.  He  does  not  write  letters  to  the  papers 
upon  his  grievances.  He  accepts  the  judgment 
loyally,  even  proudly,  and  strives  to  merit  a 
return  to  active  employment.  No  fleshpots  in 
the  outer  world,  no  honours  or  success  in  civil 
employment,  ever  compensate  the  naval  officer 
for  the  loss  of  his  career  at  sea. 

From  the  circumstances  of  their  lives,  so  largely 
spent  among  their  fellows  at  sea  or  in  naval 
harbours,  and  from  their  upbringing  in  naval 
homes  and  training  ships,  officers  and  men  grow 
into  a  class  set  apart,  dedicated  as  Followers  of 
the  Sea,  in  whose  eyes  the  dwellers  in  cities  appear 
as  silly  chatterers  and  hucksterers,  always  seeking 
after  some  vain  thing,  be  it  wealth  or  rank  or 
fame.  The  discipline  of  the  Navy  is,  like  its 
Soul,  apart  and  distinct  from  anything  which  we 
know  on  land.  It  is  very  strict  but  also  very 
human.  There  is  nothing  in  it  of  Caste.  "I 
expect,"  said  Drake,  "the  gentlemen  to  draw 
with  the  mariners."  Drake  allowed  of  no  dis- 


A  BAND  OF  BROTHERS  23 

tinction  between  "gentlemen"  and  "mariners" 
except  that  "gentlemen"  were  expected  always 
to  surpass  the  "mariners"  in  tireless  activity, 
cheerful  endurance  of  hardships,  and  unshakable 
valour  in  action.  Drake  could  bear  tenderly  with 
the  diseased  grumbling  of  a  scurvy-stricken  mar- 
iner, but  the  gentleman  adventurer  who  "groused" 
was  in  grievous  peril  of  a  rope  and  a  yard  arm. 
The  gentlemen  adventurers  have  given  place  to 
professional  naval  officers,  the  mariners  have  be- 
come the  long-service  trained  seamen  in  their 
various  grades  who  have  given  their  lives  to  the 
Navy,  but  the  spirit  of  Drake  endures  to  this 
day.  The  Gentlemen  are  expected  to  draw  with 
the  Mariners. 

When  a  thousand  lives  and  a  great  ship  may  be 
lost  by  the  lapse  from  vigilance  of  one  man,  very 
strict  discipline  is  a  vital  necessity.  But  as  with 
officers  so  with  men  it  is  the  discipline  of  cheerful, 
willing  obedience.  The  spirit  of  the  Navy  is 
not  the  spirit  of  a  Caste.  It  burns  as  brightly  in 
the  seaman  as  in  the  lieutenant,  in  the  ship's 
boy  as  in  the  midshipman,  in  the  warrant  officer 
as  in  the  "Owner."  It  is  a  discipline  hammered 
out  by  the  ceaseless  fight  with  the  sea.  The  Navy 
is  always  on  active  service;  it  is  always  waging 
an  unending  warfare  with  the  forces  of  the  sea; 
the  change  from  a  state  of  peace  to  a  state  of  war 
means  only  the  addition  of  one  more  foe — and 
if  he  be  a  gallant  and  chivalrous  foe  he  is  wel- 
comed gladly  as  one  worthy  to  kill  and  to  be 
killed. 

Catch  boys  young,  inure  them  to  Naval  dis- 
cipline, and  teach  them  the  value  of  it,  and  to 
them  it  will  become  part  of  the  essential  fabric  of 


24  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

their  lives.  A  good  example  of  how  men  of  Naval 
training  cling  to  the  discipline  of  the  Service  as 
to  a  firm  unbreakable  rope  was  shown  in  Cap- 
tain Scott's  South  Polar  expeditions.  Some  of 
the  officers,  and  practically  the  whole  of  the  crews, 
were  lent  by  the  Navy,  but  the  expeditions  them- 
selves were  under  auspices  which  were  not  naval. 
At  sea  Captain  Scott's  legal  authority  was  that  of  a 
merchant  skipper,  on  land  during  his  exploring 
expeditions  he  had  no  legal  authority  at  all.  Yet 
all  the  officers  and  men,  knowing  that  their  lives 
depended  upon  willing  subordination,  agreed  that 
the  discipline  both  at  sea  and  on  land  should  be 
that  of  the  Navy  to  which  most  of  them  belonged. 
The  ships  were  run  exactly  as  if  they  had  flown 
the  White  Ensign,  and  as  if  their  companions  were 
under  the  Navy  Act.  Strict  though  it  may  be, 
there  is  nothing  arbitrary  about  naval  discipline, 
and  those  who  have  tested  it  in  peace  and  war 
know  its  quality  of  infinite  endurance  under  any 
strain. 

The  Navy  is  a  small  Service,  small  in  numbers, 
and  to  this  very  smallness  is  partly  due  the  beauty 
of  its  Soul.  For  it  is  a  picked  Service,  and  only 
by  severe  selection  in  their  youth  can  those  be 
chosen  who  are  worthy  to  remain  among  its 
permanent  members.  The  professional  officers  and 
men  number  only  some  150,000,  and  the  great 
temporary  war  expansion — after  the  inclusion  of 
Naval  Reservists,  Naval  Volunteers,  and  the 
Division  for  service  on  land,  did  little  more  than 
treble  the  active  list.  The  Navy,  even  then, 
bore  upon  its  rolls  names  less  than  one-twelfth 
as  numerous  as  in  those  legions  who  were  drafted 
into  the  Army.  Yet  this  small  professional  Navy, 


A  BAND  OF  BROTHERS  25 

by  reason  of  its  Soul  and  the  vast  machines 
which  that  Soul  secretes  and  employs  with  su- 
preme efficiency,  dominated  throughout  the  war 
the  seas  of  the  whole  world.  The  Navy  has 
for  so  long  been  a  wonder  and  a  miracle  that  we 
have  ceased  to  be  thrilled  by  it;  we  take  it  for 
granted;  but  it  remains  no  less  a  wonder  and  a 
miracle. 

Many  causes  have  combined  to  make  this  little 
group — this  few,  this  happy  few,  this  band  of 
brothers — the  most  splendid  human  force  which 
the  world  has  ever  seen.  The  Naval  Service  is 
largely  hereditary.  Officers  and  men  come  from 
among  those  who  have  served  the  sea  for  genera- 
tions. In  the  Navy  List  of  to-day  one  may  read 
names  which  were  borne  upon  the  ships'  books 
of  hundreds  of  years  ago.  And  since  the  tradition 
of  the  sea  plays  perhaps  the  greatest  part  in  the 
development  of  the  Naval  Soul,  this  continuity 
of  family  service,  on  the  lower  deck  as  in  the 
wardroom  and  gun  room,  needs  first  to  be  empha- 
sised. The  young  son  of  an  officer,  of  a  warrant- 
officer,  of  a  seaman,  or  of  a  marine,  enters  the 
Service  already  more  than  half  trained.  He  has 
the  spirit  of  the  Service  in  his  blood,  and  its  col- 
lective honour  is  already  his  own  private  honour. 
I  remember  years  ago  a  naval  officer  said  to  me 
sorrowfully,  "My  only  son  must  go  into  the 
Service,  and  yet  I  fear  that  he  is  hardly  fit  for 
it.  He  is  delicate,  shy,  almost  timid.  But  what 
can  one  do?  " 

"Is  it  necessary?"  I  asked  foolishly.  He  stared 
at  me:  "We  have  served  from  father  to  son 
since  the  reign  of  Charles  II."  So  the  boy  en- 
tered the  Britannia,  and  I  heard  no  more  of 


26  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

him  until  one  morning,  years  after,  I  saw  in  an 
Honours  List  a  name  which  I  knew,  that  of  a 
young  Lieutenant  who  had  won  the  rare  naval 
V.C.  in  the  Mediterranean.  It  was  my  friend's 
son;  blood  had  triumphed;  the  delicate,  shy, 
almost  timid  lad  had  made  good. 

The  Navy  catches  its  men  when  they  are  young, 
unspoiled,  malleable,  and  moulds  them  with  deft 
fingers  as  a  sculptor  works  his  clay.  Officers 
enter  in  their  early  teens — now  as  boys  at  Osborne 
who  afterwards  become  naval  cadets  at  Dart- 
mouth. Formerly  they  spent  a  year  or  two 
longer  at  school  and  entered  direct  as  cadets  to 
the  Brittania.  The  system  is  essentially  the  same 
now  as  it  has  been  for  generations.  The  material 
must  be  good  and  young,  the  best  of  it  is  re- 
tained and  the  less  good  rejected.  The  best  is 
moulded  and  stamped  in  the  Dartmouth  work- 
shop, and  emerges  after  the  bright  years  of  early 
boyhood  with  the  naval  hall  mark  upon  it.  The 
seamen  enter  as  boys  into  training-ships,  and 
they,  too,  are  moulded  and  stamped  into  the  naval 
pattern.  It  is  a  very  exacting  but  a  very  just 
education.  No  one  who  has  been  admitted  to 
the  privilege  of  training  need  be  rejected  except 
by  his  own  fault,  and  if  he  is  not  worthy  to  be 
continued  in  training,  he  is  emphatically  not 
worthy  to  serve  in  the  Fleets. 

Of  late  years  this  system,  which  requires  abun- 
dance of  time  for  its  full  working  out,  has  proved 
to  be  deficient  in  elasticity.  It  takes  some  seven 
years  to  make  a  cadet  into  a  sub-lieutenant,  while 
a  great  battleship  can  be  built  and  equipped  in 
little  more  than  two  years.  The  German  North 
Sea  menace  caused  a  rapid  expansion  in  the  out- 


A  BAND  OF  BROTHERS  27 

put  of  ships,  especially  of  big  ships,  which  far 
outstripped  the  training  of  junior  officers  needed 
for  their  service.  The  Osborne-Dartmouth  system 
had  not  failed,  far  from  it,  but  it  was  too  slow 
for  the  requirements  of  the  Navy  under  the  new 
conditions.  In  order  to  keep  up  with  the  demand, 
the  supply  of  naval  cadets  was  increased  and 
speeded  up  by  the  admission  of  young  men  from 
the  public  schools  at  the  age  when  they  had  been 
accustomed  to  enter  for  permanent  Army  com- 
missions. A  large  addition  was  also  made  to  the 
roll  of  subalterns  of  Marines — who  received  training 
both  for  sea  and  land  work — and  in  this  way  the 
ranks  of  the  junior  officers  afloat  were  rapidly 
expanded.  There  was  no  departure  from  the 
Navy's  traditional  policy  of  catching  boys  young 
and  moulding  them  specially  and  exclusively  for 
the  Sea  Service;  the  new  methods  were  avowedly 
additional  and  temporary,  to  be  modified  or 
withdrawn  when  the  need  for  urgent  expansion 
had  disappeared.  The  Navy  was  clearly  right. 
It  was  obliged  to  make  a  change  in  its  system,  but 
it  made  it  to  as  small  an  extent  as  would  meet  the 
conditions  of  the  moment.  The  second  best  was 
tacked  on  to  the  first  best,  but  the  first  best  was 
retained  in  being  to  be  reverted  to  exclusively  as 
soon  as  might  be.  To  catch  boys  young,  pref- 
erably those  with  the  sea  tradition  in  their  blood, 
to  teach  them  during  their  most  impressionable 
years  that  the  Navy  must  always  be  to  them  as 
their  father,  mother  and  wedded  wife — the  exacting 
mistress  which  demands  of  them  the  whole  of 
their  affections,  energies  and  service,  to  dedicate 
them  in  tender  years  to  their  Sea  Goddess — this 
must  always  be  the  way  to  preserve,  in  its  purest 


28  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

undimmed  water,  that  pearl  of  great  price,  the 
Soul  of  the  Navy. 

It  follows  from  the  circumstances  of  their 
training  and  life  that  the  Navy  is  a  Family  of 
which  the  members  are  bound  together  by  the 
closest  of  ties  of  individual  friendship  and  associa- 
tion. It  is  a,  Service  in  which  everybody  knows 
everybody  else,  not  only  by  name  and  reputation 
but  by  personal  contact.  During  the  long  years 
of  residence  at  Osborne  and  Dartmouth,  and 
afterwards  in  the  Fleets,  at  the  Greenwich  Naval 
College,  at  the  Portsmouth  schools  of  instruction, 
officers  widely  separated  by  years  and  rank  learn 
to  know  one  another  and  to  weigh  one  another  in 
the  most  just  of  balances — that  of  actual  service. 
Those  of  us  who  have  passed  many  years  in  the 
world  of  affairs,  know  that  the  only  reputation 
worth  having  is  that  which  we  earn  among  those 
of  our  own  profession  or  craft.  And  none  of  us 
upon  land  are  known  and  weighed  with  the  intimate 
certainty  and  impartiality  which  is  possible  to  the 
Sea  Service.  We  are  not  seen  at  close  contact 
and  under  all  conditions  of  work  and  play,  and 
never  in  the  white  light  which  an  ever-present 
peril  casts  upon  our  worth  and  hardihood.  No 
fictitious  reputation  is  possible  in  the  Navy  itself 
as  it  is  possible  in  the  world  outside.  Officers 
may,  through  the  exercise  of  influence,  be  placed 
in  positions  over  the  heads  of  others  of  greater 
worth,  they  may  be  written  and  talked  about  by 
civilians  in  the  newspapers  as  among  the  most 
brilliant  in  their  profession — especially  in  time  of 
peace — but  the  Navy,  which  has  known  them 
from  youth  to  age  inside  and  out,  is  not  deceived. 
The  Navy  laughs  at  many  of  the  reputations 


A  BAND  OF  BROTHERS  29 

which  we  poor  civilians  ignorantly  honour.  No 
naval  reputation  is  of  any  value  whatever  unless 
it  be  endorsed  by  the  Navy  itself.  And  the  Navy 
does  not  talk.  How  many  newspaper  readers, 
for  instance,  had  heard  of  Admiral  Jellicoe  before 
he  was  placed  in  command  of  the  Grand  Fleet  at 
the  outbreak  of  war?  But  the  Navy  knew  all 
about  him  and  endorsed  the  choice. 

What  I  write  of  officers  applies  with  equal  force 
to  the  men,  to  the  long-service  ratings,  the  petty 
officers  and  warrant  officers  who  form  the  backbone 
of  the  Service.  They,  too,  are  caught  young, 
drawn  wherever  possible  from  sea  families,  moulded 
and  trained  into  the  naval  pattern,  stamped  after 
many  years  with  the  hall  mark  of  the  Service. 
It  is  a  system  which  has  bred  a  mutual  confidence 
and  respect  between  officers  and  men  as  unyielding 
as  armour-plate.  Before  the  battle  of  May  31st, 
1916,  the  Grand  Fleet  had  gone  forth  looking  for 
Fritz  many  times  and  finding  him  not.  Little 
was  expected,  but  if  the  unexpected  did  happen, 
then  officers  believed  in  their  long-service  ratings 
as  profoundly  as  did  these  dear  old  grumblers  in 
their  leaders.  Many  times  in  the  wardrooms  of 
the  battle  squadrons  the  prospects  of  action 
would  be  discussed  and  always  in  the  same  way. 

"No,  it's  not  likely  to  be  anything,  but  if  it 
is  what  we've  been  waiting  for,  I  have  every 
confidence  in  our  long-service  ratings  if  the  Huns 
are  really  out  for  blood.  You  know  what  I  mean 
— those  grizzled  old  G.L.I.s  (gunlayers,  first-class), 
and  gunners'  mates  and  horny-handed  old  A.B.s 
whom  we  curse  all  day  for  their  damned  ob- 
stinacy. The  Huns  think  that  two  years  make 
a  gunlayer;  we  know  that  even  twelve  years  are 


30  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

not  enough.  Our  long-service  ratings  would  pull 
the  country  through,  even  if  we  hadn't  the  me- 
chanical advantage  over  Fritz  which  we  actually 
possess.  And  the  combination  of  the  long-service 
ratings  and  the  two-Power  standard  will,  when  we 
get  to  work  upon  him,  give  Fritz  furiously  to 
think." 

Even  when  the  great  expansion  among  the  big 
fighting  ships  called  for  a  corresponding  expansion 
in  the  crews,  little  essential  change  was  made  in 
the  system  which  had  bred  confidence  such  as 
this.  There  was  some  slight  dilution.  Officers 
and  men  of  the  R.N.R.  and  the  Naval  Volunteers, 
to  the  extent  of  about  10  per  cent.,  were  drafted 
into  the  first-line  battleships,  but  the  cream  of  the 
professional  service  was  kept  for  the  first  fighting 
line.  For  the  most  part  the  new  temporary 
Navy,  of  admirable  material  drawn  from  our 
almost  limitless  maritime  population,  was  kept 
at  work  in  the  Fringes  of  the  Fleet — the  mine- 
sweepers, armed  liners,  blockading  patrols,  and 
so  on — where  less  technical  navy  skill  was  required, 
and  where  invaluable  service  could  be  and  was 
done.  The  professional  Navy  has  the  deepest 
respect  and  gratitude  for  the  devoted  work  dis- 
charged by  its  amateur  auxiliaries. 

The  Navy  is  a  young  man's  service.  In  no 
other  career  in  life  are  the  vital  energies,  the 
eager  spirits,  the  glowing  capacities  of  youth 
given  such  ample  opportunities  for  expression.  A 
naval  officer  can  become  a  proud  "  Owner,"  with 
an  independent  command  of  a  destroyer  or  sub- 
marine, at  an  age  when  in  a  civil  profession  he 
would  be  entrusted  with  scanty  responsibilities. 
In  civil  life  there  is  a  horrible  waste  of  youth;  it 


A  BAND  OF  BROTHERS  31 

is  kept  down,  largely  left  unused,  by  the  jealousy 
of  age.  But  the  Navy,  which  is  very  wise,  makes 
the  most  of  every  hour  of  it.  The  small  craft,  the 
Fringes  of  the  Fleet  as  Mr.  Kipling  calls  them, 
the  eyes  and  ears  and  guardians  of  the  l>ig  ships, 
the  patrol  boats,  submarines  and  destroyers,  are 
captained  by  youngsters  under  thirty,  often  under 
twenty-five.  The  land  crushes  youth,  the  sea 
allows  and  encourages  its  fine  flower  to  expand. 
Naval  warfare  is  directed  by  grave  men,  but  is 
to  an  enormous  extent  carried  on  by  bright  boys. 

But  the  Navy  which  employs  youth  more  fully 
than  any  other  service,  also  uses  it  up  more  re- 
morselessly. Unless  an  officer  can  reach  the  rank 
of  Commander — a  rank  above  that  of  a  Major 
in  the  Army — when  he  is  little  more  than  thirty 
he  has  a  very  scanty  chance  in  time  of  peace 
of  ever  serving  afloat  as  a  full  Captain.  The 
small  ships  are  many  in  number,  but  the  big 
ships  are  comparatively  few.  Only  the  best  of 
the  best  can  become  Commanders  at  an  age  which 
enables  them  to  reach  post  rank  in  that  early 
manhood  which  is  a  necessity  for  the  command 
of  a  modern  super-Dreadnought.  Many  of  those 
who  do  become  Captains  in  the  early  forties  have 
to  eat  out  their  hearts  upon  half-pay  because  there 
are  not  enough  big  ships  in  commission  to  go 
round.  It  is  only  in  time  of  war  that  the  whole 
of  our  Fleets  are  mobilised.  Some  years  ago  I 
was  dining  with  several  naval  officers  from  a 
battle  squadron  which  lay  in  the  Firth  of  Forth. 
Beside  me  sat  a  young  man  looking  no  more 
than  thirty-five,  and  actually  little  older.  He  was 
a  Captain  I  knew,  and  in  course  of  conversation  I 
asked  for  the  name  of  his  ship.  "The  Dread- 


32  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

nought"  said  he.  This  was  the  time  when  the 
name  and  fame  of  the  first  Dreadnought,  the  first 
all-big-gun  ship  which  revolutionised  the  con- 
struction of  the  battle  line,  was  ringing  through 
the  world.  And  yet  here  was  this  famous  ship 
in  charge  of  a  young  smooth-faced  fellow,  younger 
than  myself,  and  I  did  not  then  consider  that  I 
was  middle-aged!  "Are  you  not  rather  young?" 
I  enquired  diffidently.  He  smiled,  "We  need  to 
be  young,"  said  he.  Then  I  understood.  It 
came  home  to  me  that  the  modern  Navy,  with 
its  incredibly  rapid  development  in  machinery, 
must  have  in  its  executive  officers  those  precious 
qualities  of  adaptability  and  quick  perception, 
that  readiness  to  be  always  learning  and  testing, 
seeking  and  finding  the  best  new  ways  of  solving 
old  problems,  which  can  only  be  found  in  youth. 
Youth  is  of  the  essence  of  the  Navy,  it  always  has 
been  so  and  it  probably  always  will  be.  Youth 
learns  quickly,  and  the  Naval  officer  is  always 
learning.  In  civil  life  we  enter  our  professions, 
we  struggle  through  our  examinations  as  doctors 
or  lawyers  or  engineers,  and  then  we  are  content 
to  pass  our  lives  in  practice  and  forget  our  books. 
But  the  naval  officer,  whose  active  life  is  passed 
on  the  salt  sea,  is  ever  a  student.  He  goes  back- 
wards and  forwards  between  the  sea  and  the 
schools.  There  is  no  stage  and  no  rank  at  which 
his  education  stops.  Gunnery,  torpedo  practice, 
electricity,  navigation,  naval  strategy,  and  tactics 
are  all  rapidly  progressive  sciences.  A  few  years, 
a  very  few  years,  and  a  whole  scheme  of  practice 
becomes  obsolete.  So  the  naval  officer  needs  for 
ever  to  be  passing  from  the  sea  to  the  Vernon,  or 
the  Excellent,  or  to  Greenwich,  where  he  is  kept 


A  BAND  OF  BROTHERS  33 

up-to-date  and  given  a  perennial  opportunity  to 
develop  the  best  that  is  in  him.  From  fifteen  to 
forty  he  is  always  learning,  always  testing,  always 
growing,  and  then — unless  his  luck  is  very  great 
— he  has  to  give  way  to  the  rising  youth  of  other 
men  and  rest  himself  unused  upon  the  shelf.  The 
highest  posts  are  not  for  him.  It  is  very  remorse- 
less the  way  in  which  the  Navy  uses  and  uses  up 
its  youth,  and  very  touching  the  devoted  humble 
way  in  which  that  youth  submits  to  be  so  used 
up.  The  Navy  is  ever  growing  in  science  and  in 
knowledge,  it  must  always  have  of  the  best — 
the  remorselessness  with  which  it  chooses  only  of 
the  best,  and  the  patience  with  which  those  who 
are  not  of  the  best  submit  without  repining  to 
its  devices,  are  of  the  Soul  of  the  Navy. 

Admiral  Sir  David  Beatty  became  Commander- 
in-Chief  of  the  Grand  Fleet  at  the  age  of  forty-five. 
In  years  of  life  and  of  service  he  was  junior  to 
half  the  Captains'  List.  He  had  sprung  by  merit 
and  by  opportunity  some  ten  years  above  his 
contemporaries  at  Dartmouth.  First  in  the  Soudan, 
when  serving  in  the  flotilla  of  gunboats,  he  won 
promotion  from  Lieutenant  to  Commander  at  the 
age  of  twenty-seven.  Again  at  Tien-tsin  in  China, 
his  chance  came,  and  in  1900,  while  still  under 
thirty,  he  reached  the  captain's  rank.  When  the 
war  broke  out  he  was  a  Rear- Admiral  in  command 
of  the  First  Battle  Cruiser  Squadron,  and  was 
given  the  acting  rank  of  Vice-AdmiraL  He  is 
now  an  acting  Admiral,  and  his  seniors  in  years, 
and  even  in  rank,  willingly  serve  beneath  him. 
Admiral  Beatty  is  not  a  scientific  sailor,  and  is 
not  wedded  to  the  Service  as  are  most  of  his 
brother  officers.  But  for  the  outbreak  of  the  war  he 


34  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

would  probably  have  retired.  Yet  no  one  ques- 
tions his  pre-eminent  fitness  for  his  dazzling 
promotion.  He  has  that  rare  indefinable  quality 
of  leadership  of  men  and  of  war  instinct  which 
cannot  be  revealed  except  by  war  itself.  When, 
by  fortunate  chance,  this  quality  is  discovered  in 
an  officer  it  is  instantly  recognised  as  beyond  price, 
and  cherished  at  its  full  worth. 

The  Naval  system  which  teaches  subordination, 
also  teaches  independence.  If  to  men  roaming 
over  the  seas  in  command  of  ships,  orders  come,  it 
is  well;  if  orders  do  not  come  it  is  also  well — 
they  get  on  very  well  without  them.  If  the  entire 
Admiralty  were  wiped  out  by  German  bombs, 
My  Lords  and  the  whole  staff  destroyed,  the  Navy 
would,  in  its  own  language,  " proceed"  to  carry 
on.  In  the  middle  of  the  political  crisis  of  De- 
cember 1916,  when  a  new  Naval  Board  of  Admiralty 
had  just  been  appointed,  I  asked  a  senior  officer 
how  the  new  lot  were  getting  on.  He  said: 
''There  isn't  any  First  Lord.  The  First  Sea  Lord 
is  in  bed  with  influenza.  The  Second  Sea  Lord  is 
in  bed  with  influenza.  The  Third  Sea  Lord  is  in 
bed  with  influenza.  The  Fourth  Sea  Lord  is  at 
work  but  is  sickening  for  influenza.  But  the  Navy 
is  all  right."  That  is  the  note  of  serene  confidence 
which  distinguishes  the  Sea  Service.  Whatever 
happens,  the  Navy  is  all  right. 

The  Navy  is  a  poor  man's  Service.  It  is  a  real 
profession  in  which  the  officers  as  a  rule  live  on 
their  pay  and  ask  for  little  more.  Men  of  great 
houses  will  enter  the  Army  in  time  of  peace  and 
regard  it  as  a  mild  occupation,  men  of  money  will 
enter  for  the  social  position  which  it  may  give  to 
them.  But  no  man  of  rank  or  of  money  in  search 


A  BAND  OF  BROTHERS  35 

of  a  ''cushy  job,"  was  ever  such  an  ass  as  to 
look  for  it  in  the  Navy.  Few  officers  in  the  Navy 
— except  among  those  who  have  entered  in  quite 
recent  years — have  any  resources  beyond  their 
pay;  many  of  them  are  born  to  it,  and  in  their 
families  there  have  been  scanty  opportunities  for 
saving.  The  Admiralty,  until  quite  recently,  re- 
quired that  young  officers  upon  entry  into  the  Navy 
or  the  Marines  should  be  allowed  small  specified 
sums  until  they  attained  in  service  pay  the  em- 
inence of  about  11s.  a  day,  and  also  that  a  com- 
plete uniform  equipment  should  be  provided  for 
them;  but  after  that  initial  help  from  home 
they  were  expected  to  make  their  pay  suffice.  And 
in  the  great  majority  of  cases  they  did  what  was 
expected  of  them.  Living  is  cheap  in  the  Sea 
Service.  Ships  pay  no  duties  upon  their  stores, 
and  there  are  few  opportunities  afloat  for  the 
wasting  of  money.  Mess  bills  in  ward-room  and 
gun-room  are  small,  and  must  be  kept  small, 
or  the  captain  will  arise  in  wrath  and  ask  to  be 
informed  (in  writing)  of  the  reason  why.  Ere 
now  young  men  have  been  dismissed  their  ships 
for  persistently  running  up  too  large  a  wine  bill; 
and  to  be  dismissed  one's  ship  means  not  only  a 
bad  mark  in  the  Admiralty's  books,  but  loss  of 
seniority,  which  in  turn  means  an  extra  early 
retirement  upon  that  exiguous  half-pay  which  looms 
always  like  a  dark  cloud  upon  the  naval  horizon. 

Unhappily  for  its  officers  and  the  country  the 
Navy  has  not  been  a  married  man's  service;  it 
has  been  too  exacting  to  tolerate  a  divided  alle- 
giance. Sometimes  poor  young  things  under  stress 
of  emotion  have  got  married,  and  then  has  begun 
for  them  the  most  cruel  and  ageing  of  struggles — 


36  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

the  man  at  sea  hard  put  to  it  to  keep  up  his  posi- 
tion, simple  though  it  be;  the  wife  ashore  in  poor 
lodgings  or  in  some  tiny  villa,  lonely,  struggling, 
growing  old  too  fast  for  her  years;  children  who 
rarely  see  their  father,  and  whose  prospects  are 
of  the  gloomiest.  I  do  not  willingly  put  my  pen 
to  this  picture.  Young  Navy  men,  glowing  with 
health  and  virile  energy,  and  the  spirit  of  the 
Service,  are  very  attractive  creatures  to  whom 
goes  out  the  love  of  women,  but  though  they,  too, 
may  love,  they  are  usually  compelled  to  sail  away. 
It  is  well  for  them  then  if  they  are  as  firmly 
wedded  to  the  Service  as  the  Roman  priest  is  to 
his  Church,  and  if  they  are  not  always  as  continent 
as  the  priest,  who  is  so  free  from  sin  that  he  will 
dare  to  cast  a  stone  at  them?  If  the  country 
and  its  rulers  had  any  belief  in  heredity,  of  which 
the  evidence  stares  at  them  from  the  eyes  of  every 
naval  son  born  to  the  Service,  they  would  grant 
to  a  young  officer  a  year  of  leave  in  which  to  be 
married,  and  pay  to  him  and  to  his  mate  a  hand- 
some subsidy  for  every  splendid  son  whom  they 
laid  in  the  cradles  of  the  Service  of  the  future. 

Of  late  years  there  has  been  a  change.  The  rapid 
expansion  of  the  Fleets  has  brought  in  many  young 
cadets  of  commercial  families,  whose  parents  have 
far  more  money  than  is  wholly  good  for  their  sons. 
The  Navy  is  not  so  completely  a  poor  man's  service 
as  it  was  even  ten  years  ago.  The  junior  officers 
are,  some  of  them,  too  well  off.  Not  long  since,  a 
senior  Captain  was  lamenting  this  change  in  my 
presence.  "The  snotties  now,"  he  groaned,  "all 
keep  motor  bicylces,  the  sub-lieutenants  are  not 
happy  till  they  own  cars,  and  the  Lieutenant- 
Commanders  think  nothing  of  getting  married. 


A  BAND  OF  BROTHERS  37 

All  this  has  been  the  result  of  concentrating  the 
Fleets  in  home  waters.  Germany  compelled  us 
to  do  it,  but  the  Service  was  the  better  for  the 
three-year  Commissions  on  foreign  stations."  All 
this  is  true.  The  junior  ranks  are  getting  richer. 
At  sea  they  can  spend  little,  but  ashore  and  in 
harbour  there  are  opportunities  for  gold  to  corrupt 
the  higher  virtues.  For  my  part,  however,  I  have 
the  fullest  confidence  in  the  training  and  the  example 
of  the  older  officers.  In  this  war  there  has  been 
nothing  to  suggest  that  the  young  Navy  is  less 
devoted  and  self-sacrificing  than  the  old.  The 
wealthier  boys  may  take  their  fling  on  leave — 
and  who  can  blame  them? — but  at  sea  the  Service 
comes  first. 

We  love  that  most  which  is  most  hardly  won. 
And  the  Navy  men  love  their  Service,  not  because 
it  is  easy  but  because  of  the  hardness  of  it,  and 
because  of  the  sacrifices  which  it  exacts  from  them. 
It  fastens  its  grip  upon  them  in  those  first  years 
between  fifteen  and  twenty,  and  the  grip  grows 
ever  tighter  with  the  flight  of  time.  It  is  at  its 
very  tightest  when  the  dreadful  hour  of  retirement 
arrives.  When  War  broke  out,  in  August  1914, 
it  was  hailed  with  joy  by  the  active  Navy  afloat, 
but  their  joy  was  as  water  unto  wine  in  comparison 
with  that  which  transfigured  the  retired  Navy 
ashore.  For  them  at  long  last  the  impossible  had 
crystallised  into  fact,  For  those  who  were  still 
young  enough,  the  uniforms  were  waiting  ready 
in  the  tin  boxes  upstairs,  and  it  was  but  a  short 
step  from  their  house  doors  to  the  decks  of  a 
King's  ship.  Once  more  their  gallant  names 
could  be  written  in  the  Active  List  of  their  Navy. 
They  hastened  back,  these  eager  ones,  and  if 


38  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

there  was  no  employment  for  them  in  their  own 
rank,  they  snatched  at  that  in  any  other  rank 
which  offered.  Captains  R.N.  became  commanders 
and  even  lieutenants  R.N.R.  in  the  Fringes. 
Admirals  became  temporary  captains.  There  were 
indeed  at  one  time  no  fewer  than  nineteen  retired 
admirals  serving  as  temporary  officers  R.N.R.  in 
armed  liners. 

If  you  would  understand  how  the  "Navy  loves 
the  Service,  how  that  love  is  not  a  part  of  their 
lives,  but  is  their  lives,  reflect  upon  the  case  of  one 
aged  officer.  I  will  not  give  his  name;  he  would 
not  wish  it.  He  had  been  in  retirement  for  nearly 
forty  years,  too  old  for  service  in  his  rank,  too  old 
possibly  for  service  in  any  rank.  But  his  pleadings 
for  employment  afloat  softened  the  understanding 
hearts  at  Whitehall.  He  was  allowed  to  rejoin 
and  to  serve  as  a  temporary  Lieutenant-Com- 
mander in  an  armed  yacht  which  assisted  the 
ex-Brazilian  monitors  sent  to  bombard  the  Belgian 
coast.  There  against  Zeebrugge  he  served  among 
kindly  lads  young  enough  to  be  his  grandsons, 
and  there  with  them  and  among  them  he  was 
killed — the  oldest  officer  serving  afloat.  And  he 
was  happy  in  his  death.  Not  Wolfe  before  Quebec, 
not  Nelson  in  the  cockpit  of  the  Victory,  were 
happier  or  more  glorious  in  their  deaths  than  was 
that  temporary  Lieutenant-Commander  (trans- 
ferred at  his  own  request  from  the  retired  list) 
who  fought  his  last  fight  upon  the  decks  of  an 
armed  yacht  and  died  as  he  would  have  prayed 
to  die. 

The  Navy  hates  advertisement  and  scorns  above 
all  things  in  heaven  or  upon  earth  the  indiscrim- 
inating  praise  of  well-meaning  civilians.  I  sadly 


A  BAND  OF  BROTHERS  39 

realise  that  it  may  scorn  me  and  this  book  of 
mine.  But  I  will  do  my  best  to  make  amends.  I 
will  promise  that  never  once  in  describing  their 
deeds  will  I  refer  to  Navy  men  as  "heroes."  I 
will  not,  where  I  can  possibly  avoid  doing  so, 
mention  the  name  of  anyone.  I  will  do  my 
utmost  at  all  times  to  write  of  them  as  men  and 

not  as  "b angels."     I  will,  at  the  peril  of 

some  inconsistency,  declare  my  conviction  that 
naval  officers  haven't  any  souls,  that  they  are  in 
the  Service  because  they  love  it,  and  not  because 
they  care  two  pins  for  their  country,  that  they 
are  rather  pleased  than  otherwise  when  rotten 
civilians  at  home  get  a  bad  fright  from  a  raid.  I 
will  declare  that  they  catch  and  sink  German 
submarines  by  all  manner  of  cunning  devices, 
from  the  sheer  zest  of  sport,  and  not  because  they 
would  raise  a  finger  to  save  the  lives  of  silly  pas- 
sengers in  luxurious  ocean  liners.  I  will  do  any- 
thing to  turn  their  scorn  away  from  me  except  to 
withdraw  one  word  which  I  have  written  upon 
the  Soul  of  the  Navy.  For  upon  this  subject  they 
would,  I  believe,  write  as  I  do  if  the  gods  had 
given  to  them  leisure  for  philosophical  analysis — 
which  they  are  much  too  busy  to  bother  about — 
and  the  knack  of  verbally  expressing  their  thoughts. 
When  I  read  a  naval  despatch  I  always  groan 
over  it  as  an  awful  throwing  away  of  the  most 
splendid  opportunities.  I  always  long  to  have 
been  in  the  place  of  the  writer,  to  have  seen  what 
he  saw,  to  know  what  he  knew,  and  to  teli  the 
world  in  living  phrase  what  tremendous  deeds 
were  really  done.  Naval  despatches  are  the  baldest 
of  documents,  cold,  formal,  technical,  most  for- 
biddingly uninspiring.  Whenever  I  ask  naval 


40  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

officers  why  they  do  not  put  into  despatches  the 
vivid  details  which  sometimes  find  their  way  into 
private  letters  they  glare  at  me,  and  even  their 
beautiful  courtesy  can  scarcely  keep  back  the 
sniff  of  contempt.  "Despatches,"  say  they,  "are 
written  for  the  information  ol  the  Admiralty." 
That  is  a  complete  answer  under  the  Naval  Code. 
The  despatches,  which  make  one  groan,  are  written 
for  the  information  of  the  Admiralty,  not  to  thrill 
poor  creatures  such  as  you  and  me.  A  naval 
officer  cares  only  for  his  record  at  the  Admiralty 
and  for  his  reputation  among  those  of  his  own 
craft.  If  a  newspaper  calls  Lieutenant  A —  B — 
a  hero,  and  writes  enthusiastically  of  his  valour, 
he  shudders  as  would  a  modest  woman  if  publicly 
praised  for  her  chastity.  Valour  goes  with  the 
Service,  it  is  a  part  of  the  Soul  of  the  Navy.  It  is 
taken  for  granted  and  is  not  to  be  talked  or  written 
about.  And  so  with  those  other  qualities  that 
spring  from  the  traditions  of  the  Navy — the 
chivalry  which  risks  British  lives  to  save  those  of 
drowning  enemies,  the  tenderness  which  binds  up 
their  wounds,  the  honours  paid  to  their  dead. 
All  these  things,  which  the  Royal  Navy  never 
forgets  and  the  German  Navy  for  the  most  part 
has  never  learned,  are  taken  for  granted  and 
are  not  to  be  talked  of  or  written  about. 


It  is  inevitable  from  the  nature  of  its  training 
that  the  Navy  should  be  intensely  self-centred. 
If  one  catches  a  boy  when  he  has  but  recently 
emerged  from  the  nursery,  teaches  him  throughout 
his  active  life  that  there  is  but  one  work  fit  for 
the  service  of  man,  dedicates  him  to  it  by  the 


A  BAND  OF  BROTHERS  41 

strictest  discipline,  cuts  him  off  by  the  nature 
of  his  daily  life  from  all  intimate  contact  with  or 
understanding  of  the  world  which  moves  upon 
land,  his  imagination  will  be  atrophied  by  disuse. 
He  will  become  absorbed  into  the  Naval  life  which 
is  a  life  entirely  of  its  own,  apart  and  distinct 
from  all  other  lives.  There  is  a  deep  gulf  set 
between  the  Naval  life  and  all  other  lives  which 
very  few  indeed  of  the  Navy  ever  seek  to  cross. 
Their  attitude  towards  civilians  is  very  like  that 
of  the  law-making  statesman  of  old  who  said: 
"The  people  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  laws 
except  to  obey  them."  If  the  Navy  troubled  to 
think  of  civilians  at  all — it  never  does  unless  they 
annoy  it  with  their  futile  chatter  in  Parliament 
and  elsewhere — it  would  say:  " Civilians  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  Navy  except  to  pay  for 
it."  Keen  as  is  the  imaginative  foresight  of  the 
Navy  in  regard  to  everything  which  concerns  its 
own  honour  and  effectiveness,  it  is  utterly  lacking 
in  any  sympathetic  imaginative  understanding  of 
the  intense  civilian  interest  in  itself  and  in  its 
work.  We  poor  creatures  who  stand  outside,  I 
who  write  and  you  who  read,  do  in  actual  fact 
love  the  Navy  only  a  little  less  devotedly  than  the 
Navy  loves  its  own  Service.  We  long  to  under- 
stand it,  to  help  it,  and  to  pay  for  it.  We  know 
what  we  owe  to  it,  but  we  would  ask,  in  all  proper 
humility,  that  now  and  then  the  Navy  would 
realise  and  appreciate  the  certain  fact  that  it 
owes  some  little  of  its  power  and  success  to  us. 

I  cannot  in  a  formula  define  the  collective  Soul 
of  the  Navy.  It  is  a  moral  atmosphere  which  cannot 
be  chemically  resolved.  It  is  a  subtle  and  elusive 
compound  of  tradition,  self  sacrifice,  early  training, 


42  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

willing  discipline,  youth,  simplicity,  valour,  chivalry, 
lack  of  imagination,  and  love  of  the  Service — and 
the  greatest  of  these  is  Love.  I  have  tried  to 
indicate  what  it  is,  how  it  has  given  to  this  wonder- 
ful Navy  of  ours  a  terrible  unity,  a  terrible  force, 
and  an  even  more  terrible  intelligence;  how  it 
has  transformed  a  body  of  men  into  a  gigantic 
spiritual  Power  which  expresses  its  might  in  the 
forms  and  means  of  naval  warfare.  I  cannot 
exactly  define  it,  but  I  can  in  a  humble  faltering 
way  do  my  best  to  reveal  it  in  its  working. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    COMING   OF   WAR 

OUR  Navy  has  played  the  great  game  of  war  by 
sea  for  too  many  hundreds  of  years  ever  to  under- 
rate its  foes.  It  is  even  more  true  of  the  sea  than 
of  the  land  that  the  one  thing  sure  to  happen  is 
that  which  is  unexpected.  Until  they  have  meas- 
ured by  their  own  high  standards  the  quality 
of  an  enemy,  our  officers  and  men  rate  him  hi 
valour,  in  sea  skill,  and  in  masterful  ingenuity  as 
fully  the  equal  of  themselves.  Until  August  1914 
the  Royal  Navy  had  never  fought  the  German, 
and  had  no  standards  of  experience  by  which  to 
assay  him.  The  Navy  had  known  the  maritime 
nations  of  Europe  and  fought  them  many  times, 
but  the  Germans,  a  nation  of  landsmen  artificially 
converted  into  sailors  within  a  single  generation, 
were  a  problem  both  novel  and  baffling.  Eighteen 
years  before  the  War,  Germany  had  no  navy 
worth  speaking  of  in  comparison  with  ours;  during 
those  fateful  years  she  built  ships  and  guns,  trained 
officers  and  men,  and  secured  her  sea  bases  on 
the  North  Sea  and  in  the  Baltic  at  a  speed  and 
with  a  concentrated  enthusiasm  which  were  wholly 
wonderful  and  admirable.  "The  Future  of  Ger- 
many lies  on  the  water,"  cried  the  Kaiser  one  day, 
and  his  faithful  people  took  up  the  cry.  "We 

43 


44  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

here  and  now  challenge  Britain  upon  her  chosen 
element."  Quite  seriously  and  soberly  the  German 
Navy  Law  of  1900  issued  this  challenge,  and  the 
Fatherland  settled  down  to  its  prodigious  task 
with  a  serene  confidence  and  an  extraordinary 
energy  which  won  for  it  the  ungrudging  respect 
of  its  future  foes. 

Perhaps  the  Royal  Navy  in  those  early  years 
of  the  twentieth  century,  and  especially  in  1913 
and  1914,  became  just  a  little  bit  infected  by  the 
mental  disease  of  exalting  everything  German, 
which  had  grown  into  an  obsession  among  many 
Englishmen.  At  home  during  the  War  men 
oppressed  by  their  enemy's  land  power,  would 
talk  as  if  one  German  cut  in  two  became  two 
Germans.  German  organisation,  German  educa- 
tional training,  German  mechanical  and  scientific 
skill  are  very  good,  but  they  are  not  superhuman. 
Their  failures,  like  those  of  other  folk,  are  fully 
as  numerous  as  their  successes.  In  trade  they 
won  many  triumphs  over  us  because  British 
trading  methods  were  individualistic  and  were 
totally  lacking  in  national  direction  and  support. 
But  the  Royal  Navy  is  in  every  respect  wholly 
distinct  from  every  other  British  institution.  It 
is  the  one  and  only  National  Service  which  has 
always  declined  to  recognise  in  its  practice  the 
British  policy  of  muddling  through.  It  is  the  one 
Service  with  a  mind  and  an  iron  Soul  of  its  very 
own.  So  that  when  Germany  set  to  work  to 
create  out  of  nothing  a  navy  to  compete  with  our 
own,  she  was  up  against  a  vast  spiritual  power 
which  she  did  not  understand,  the  Soul  of  the 
Navy,  that  unifying  dominating  force  which  gives 
to  it  an  incomparable  strength.  She  was  up,  too, 


THE  COMING  OF  WAR  45 

against  that  experience  of  the  sea  and  of  sea 
warfare  in  a  race  of  islanders  which  had  been  living 
and  growing  since  the  days  of  King  Alfred.  The 
wonderful  thing  is  this :  not  that  the  German  Navy 
has  at  no  point  been  able  to  bear  comparison  with 
ours — hi  design  of  ships,  hi  quality  and  weight  of 
guns,  in  sea  cunning,  in  sea  training  and  in  hardi- 
hood— but  that  in  the  few  short  years  of  the 
present  century  the  German  Navy  should  have 
been  built  at  all,  manned  at  all,  trained  at  all. 

As  the  German  Navy  grew,  and  our  ships  came 
hi  contact  with  those  of  the  Germans,  especially 
upon  foreign  stations,  our  naval  officers  and  men 
came  to  regard  their  future  foes  with  much  respect 
and  even  with  admiration.  We  knew  how  great  a 
task  the  Germans  had  set  to  themselves,  and  were 
astonished  at  the  speed  with  which  they  made 
themselves  efficient.  I  have  often  been  told  that 
during  the  years  immediately  before  the  war,  the 
relations  between  English  and  German  naval  of- 
ficers and  men  were  more  close  than  those  be- 
tween English  officers  and  men  and  the  sailors 
of  any  other  navy.  It  became  recognised  that 
in  the  Germans  we  should  have  foemen  of  un- 
doubted gallantry  and  of  no  less  undoubted  skill. 
There  are  few  officers  and  men  in  our  Fleets  who 
do  not  know  personally  and  admire  their  opposite 
numbers  upon  the  enemy's  side,  and  though  our 
foes  have  in  many  ways  broken  the  rules  of  war 
as  understood  and  practised  by  us,  one  never 
hears  the  Royal  Navy  call  the  Germans  "pirates." 
Expressions  such  as  this  one  are  left  to  civilians. 
When  Mr.  Churchill  announced  that  the  officers 
and  crews  of  captured  U  boats  would  be  treated 
differently  from  those  taken  in  surface  ships,  the 


46  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

Navy  strongly  disapproved.  To  them  it  seemed 
that  the  responsibility  for  breaches  of  international 
law  and  practice  lay  not  with  naval  officers  and 
men,  whose  duty  it  was  to  carry  out  the  orders 
of  the  superiors,  but  that  it  lay  with  the  superiors 
who  gave  those  orders.  To  retaliate  upon  sub- 
ordinate officers  and  men  for  the  crimes  of  their 
political  chiefs  seemed  cowardly,  and  worse — it 
struck  a  blow  at  the  whole  fabric  of  naval  discipline 
not  only  in  the  German  but  in  every  other  Service, 
including  our  own.  Our  officers  saw  more  clearly 
than  did  the  then  First  Lord  that  no  Naval  Service 
can  remain  efficient  for  a  day  if  it  be  encouraged 
to  discriminate  between  the  several  orders  con- 
veyed to  it,  and  to  claim  for  itself  a  moral  right 
to  select  what  shall  be  obeyed  and  what  diso- 
beyed. 

Germany  had  no  maritime  traditions  and  a 
scanty  seafaring  population  to  assist  her.  Her 
seaboard  upon  the  North  Sea  is  a  maze  of  shallows 
and  sandbanks,  through  which  devious  channels 
leading  to  her  naval  and  commercial  bases  are 
kept  open  only  by  continuous  dredging.  God  has 
made  Plymouth  Sound,  Spithead  and  the  Firth  of 
Forth;  the  Devil,  it  is  alleged,  has  been  responsible 
for  Scapa  and  the  Pentland  Firth  in  winter;  but 
man,  German  man,  has  made  the  navigable  mouths 
of  the  Elbe,  the  Weser  and  the  Ems.  The  Baltic 
is  an  inland  sea  upon  which  the  coasting  trade  had 
for  centuries  been  mainly  in  the  hands  of  Scandi- 
navians. Until  late  in  the  nineteenth  century 
Germany  was  one  of  the  least  maritime  of  all 
nations;  almost  at  a  leap  she  sprang  into  the 
position  of  one  of  the  greatest.  It  is  said  that 
peoples  get  the  governments  which  they  deserve; 


THE  COMING  OF  WAR  47 

it  is  certainly  true  that  when  peoples  are  blind 
their  governments  shut  their  eyes.  In  the  Country 
of  the  Blind  the  one-eyed  man  is  not  King;  he  is 
flung  out  for  having  the  impertinence  to  pretend 
to  see.  In  a  state  of  blindness  or  of  careless 
indifference  we  made  Germany  a  present  of  Heligo- 
land in  1890.  It  looked  a  poor  thing,  a  crumbling 
bit  of  waste  rock,  and  when  the  Kaiser  asked  for 
it  he  received  the  gift  almost  without  discussion. 
Both  our  Government  and  Court  at  that  time 
were  almost  rabidly  pro-German.  We  all  cherished 
so  much  suspicion  of  France  and  Russia  that  we 
had  none  left  to  spare  for  Germany.  Heligoland 
was  then  of  no  great  use  to  us,  but  it  was  of  in- 
calculable value  to  our  future  enemies.  A  German 
Heligoland  fortified,  equipped  with  airship  sheds 
and  long-distance  wireless,  a  shelter  for  submarines, 
was  to  the  new  German  Navy  only  second  in 
value  to  the  Kiel  Canal.  Islands  do  not  "com- 
mand" anything  beyond  range  of  their  guns, 
especially  when  they  have  no  harbours;  but 
Heligoland,  though  it  in  no  sense  commanded  the 
approach  to  the  German  bases,  was  an  invaluable 
outpost  and  observation  station.  It  is  a  little 
island  of  crumbling  red  rock,  preserved  only  by 
man's  labour  from  vanishing  into  the  sea;  it  is 
a  mile  long  and  less  than  one-third  of  a  mile  wide; 
it  is  28  miles  from  the  nearest  mainland.  Yet 
when  we  gave  to  Germany  this  scrap  of  wasting 
rock,  we  gave  her  the  equivalent  in  naval  value 
of  a  fleet.  We  secured  her  North  Sea  bases 
from  our  sudden  attacks,  and  we  gave  her  an 
observation  station  from  which  she  could  direct 
attacks  against  ourselves. 

Heligoland,  a  free  gift  from  us,  was  the  first 


48  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

asset,  a  most  valuable  asset,  which  Germany  was 
able  to  place  to  the  credit  side  of  her  naval  balance 
sheet.  Other  assets  were  rapidly  acquired.  In 
1898  the  building  of  the  new  navy  seriously  began, 
in  1900  was  passed  the  famous  German  Navy 
Law  setting  forth  a  continuous  programme  of 
expansion,  the  back  alley  between  the  North  Sea 
and  the  Baltic  was  cut  through  the  isthmus  of 
Schleswig-Holstein,  and  Germany  as  a  Sea  Power 
rose  into  being.  The  British  people,  at  first 
amused  and  slightly  contemptuous,  became  alarmed, 
and  the  Royal  Navy,  always  watchful,  never 
boastful,  never  undervaluing  any  possible  oppo- 
nent, settled  down  to  deal  in  its  own  supremely 
efficient  fashion  with  the  German  Menace. 

Neither  the  British  people  nor  the  Royal  Navy 
were  lacking  in  confidence  in  themselves,  but 
neither  the  people  nor  the  Navy — we  are,  perhaps, 
the  least  analytical  race  on  earth — realised  the 
immovable  foundation  upon  which  their  coi  dence 
was  based.  The  people  were  wise;  they  simply 
trusted  to  the  Navy  and  gave  to  it  whatever  it 
asked.  But  the  Navy,  though  fully  alive  to  the 
value  of  its  own  traditions,  training,  and  centuries- 
old  skill,  did  not  fully  understand  that  the  source 
of  its  own  immense  striking  force  was  moral  rather 
than  material.  Like  its  critics  it  thought  over 
much  in  machines,  and  when  it  saw  across  the 
North  Sea  the  outpouring  of  ships  and  guns  and 
men  which  Germany  called  her  Navy,  it  became 
not  a  little  anxious  about  the  result  of  a  sudden 
unforeseen  collision.  It  was,  if  anything,  over 
anxious. 

But  while  this  is  true  of  the  Navy  as  a  whole, 
it  is  not  true  of  the  higher  naval  command.  Away 


THE  COMING  OF  WAR  49 

hidden  in  Whitehall,  immersed  in  the  study  of 
problems  for  which  the  data  were  known  and 
from  which  no  secrets  were  hid,  sat  those  who  had 
taken  the  measure  of  the  German  efforts  and 
gauged  the  value  of  them  more  justly  than  could 
the  Germans  themselves.  They,  the  silent  ones, 
— who  never  talked  to  representatives  of  the  Press 
or  inspired  articles  in  the  newspapers — knew  that 
the  German  ships,  especially  the  all-big-gun  ships, 
generically  but  rather  misleadingly  called  "Dread- 
noughts," were  in  nearly  every  class  inferior  copies 
of  our  own  ships  of  two  or  three  years  earlier. 
The  Royal  Navy  designed  and  built  the  first 
Dreadnought  at  Portsmouth  in  fifteen  months, 
and  preserved  so  rigid  a  secrecy  about  her  details 
that  she  was  a  " mystery  ship"  till  actually  hi 
commission.  This  lead  of  fifteen  months,  so  skil- 
fully and  silently  acquired,  became  in  practice 
three  years,  for  it  reduced  to  waste  paper  all  the 
German  designs.  The  first  Dreadnought  was  com- 
missioned by  us  on  December  llth,  1906;  it 
was  not  until  May  3rd,  1910,  that  the  Germans 
put  into  service  the  first  Nassaus,  which  were 
inferior  copies.  Our  lead  gained  in  1906  was 
more  than  maintained,  and  each  batch  of  German 
designs  showed  that  step  by  step  they  had  to 
wait  upon  us  to  reveal  to  them  the  path  of  naval 
progress.  With  us  the  upward  rush  was  extraor- 
dinarily rapid;  with  the  Germans  it  was  slow 
and  halting — they  were  slow  to  grasp  what  we 
were  about  and  were  then  slow  to  interpret  in 
steel  those  of  our  intentions  which  they  were  able 
to  discern.  Once  our  Navy  had  adopted  the 
revolutionary  idea  of  the  all-big-gun  ship — the 
design  was  perhaps  an  evolution  rather  than  a 


50  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

revolution — its  constructors  and  designers  devel- 
oped the  principle  with  the  most  astonishing 
rapidity.  The  original  Dreadnought  was  out  of 
date  in  the  designers'  minds  within  a  year  of  her 
completion.  After  two  or  three  years  she  was  what 
the  Americans  call  "a  back  number,"  and  when 
the  War  broke  out  we  had  in  hand — some  of 
them  nearly  completed — the  great  class  of  Queen 
Elizabeths  with  25  knots  of  speed  and  eight  15-inch 
guns,  vessels  as  superior  to  the  first  Dreadnought 
in  fighting  force  as  she  was  herself  superior  to 
the  light  German  battleships  which  her  appearance 
cast  upon  the  scrap  heap.  And  Germany,  in 
spite  of  her  patient  efforts,  her  system  of  espionage 
— which  rarely  seemed  to  discover  anything  of 
real  importance — and  her  outpouring  of  gold, 
had  even  then  as  her  best  battleships  vessels  little 
better  than  our  first  Dreadnought.  It  is  scarcely 
an  exaggeration  to  say  that  the  five  Queen  Eliza- 
beths and  the  five  Royal  Sovereigns  which  we  put 
into  commission  during  the  war,  equipped  with 
eighty  15-inch  guns,  could  have  taken  on  with 
ease  the  whole  of  the  German  battle  fleet  as  it 
existed  in  August  1914.  Up  to  the  outbreak  of 
war,  at  each  stage  in  the  race  for  weight  of  guns, 
power  and  speed,  Britain  remained  fully  two 
years  ahead  of  Germany  in  quality  and  a  great 
deal  more  than  two  years  ahead  in  magnitude  of 
output.  During  the  war,  as  I  will  show  later  on, 
the  British  lead  was  prodigiously  increased  and 
accelerated. 

In  its  inmost  heart,  and  especially  in  the  heart 
of  the  higher  command,  the  Royal  Navy  knew 
that  German  designers  of  big  ships  were  but  pale 
copyists  of  their  own,  and  that  the  shipyards  of 


THE  COMING  OF  WAR  51 

Danzig  and  Stettin  and  Hamburg  could  not 
compete  in  speed  or  in  quantity  with  its  own 
yards  and  those  of  its  contractors  in  England 
and  Scotland.  And  yet  knowing  these  things, 
there  was  an  undercurrent  of  anxiety  ever  present 
both  in  the  Navy  and  in  those  circles  within  its 
sphere  of  influence.  It  seemed  to  some  anxious 
minds — especially  of  civilian  naval  students — that 
what  was  known  could  not  be  the  whole  truth,  and 
that  the  Germans — belief  in  whose  ingenuity  and 
resources  had  become  an  obsession  with  many 
people — must  have  some  wonderful  unknown  ships 
and  still  more  wonderful  guns  hidden  in  the  deep 
recesses  behind  the  Frisian  sandbanks.  In  those 
days,  a  year  or  two  before  August  1914,  men  who 
ought  to  have  known  better  would  talk  gravely  of 
secret  shipyards  where  stupendous  vessels  were 
under  construction,  and  of  secret  gunshops  where 
the  superhuman  Krupps  were  at  work  upon  de- 
signs which  would  change  the  destinies  of  nations. 
Anyone  who  has  ever  seen  a  battleship  upon  a 
building  slip,  and  knows  how  few  are  the  slips 
which  can  accommodate  them  and  how  few  are 
the  builders  competent  to  make  them,  and  how 
few  can  build  the  great  guns  and  gun  mountings, 
will  smile  at  the  idea  of  secret  yards  and  secret 
construction.  Details  may  be  kept  secret,  as 
with  the  first  Dreadnought  and  with  many  of  our 
super-battleships,  but  the  main  dimensions  and 
purpose  of  a  design  are  glaringly  conspicuous  to 
the  eyes  of  the  Royal  Navy's  Intelligence  Service. 
One  might  as  well  try  to  hide  a  Zeppelin  as  a 
battleship. 

As  with  ships  so   with  guns.     I   will   deal  in 
another    chapter    with    the    Navy's    belief,    fully 


52  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

justified  in  action,  in  the  bigger  gun — the  straight 
shooting,  hard  hitting  naval  gun  of  ever-expanding 
calibre — and  in  the  higher  speed  of  ships  which 
enables  the  bigger  gun  to  be  used  at  its  most 
effective  range.  There  was  nothing  new  in  this 
belief;  it  was  the  ripe  fruit  of  all  naval  experience. 
Speed  without  hitting  power  is  of  little  use  in  the 
battle  line;  hitting  power  without  speed  gives 
to  an  enemy  the  advantage  of  manoeuvre  and 
of  escape;  but  speed  and  hitting  power,  both 
greater  than  those  of  an  enemy,  spell  certain 
annihilation  for  him.  He  can  neither  fight  nor 
run  away.  Given  sufficient  light  and  sea  room 
for  a  fight  to  the  finish,  he  must  be  destroyed. 
The  North  Sea  deadlock  is  due  to  lack  of  room. 

Our  guns  developed  in  size  and  hi  power  as 
rapidly  as  did  our  great  ships  in  the  capacity  to 
carry  and  use  them.  Krupps  have  a  very  famous 
name,  made  famous  beyond  their  merits  by  the 
extravagant  adulation  which  for  years  past  has 
been  poured  upon  them  in  our  own  country  by 
our  own  people.  The  Germans  are  a  race  of 
egotists,  but  they  have  never  exalted  themselves, 
and  everything  that  is  German,  to  the  utterly 
absurd  heights  to  which  many  fearful  Englishmen 
have  exalted  them  in  England.  Krupps  have 
been  bowed  down  to  and  almost  worshipped  as 
the  Gods  of  Terror.  Their  supreme  capacity  for 
inventing  and  constructing  the  best  possible  guns 
has  been  taken  as  proved  beyond  the  need  of  demon- 
stration. But  Krupps  were  not  and  are  not  super- 
men; they  have  had  to  learn  their  trade  like 
more  humble  folk,  and  naval  gun-making  is  not  a 
trade  which  can  be  taken  up  one  day  and  made 
perfect  on  the  next.  Krupps  are  good  gun- 


THE  COMING  OF  WAR  53 

makers,  but  our  own  naval  gunshops  have  for 
years  outclassed  them  at  every  point — in  design, 
in  size,  in  power,  in  quality,  and  in  speed  of 
production.  The  long  wire-wound  naval  gun,  a 
miracle  of  patient  workmanship,  is  British  not 
German.  While  Krupps  were  labouring  to  make 
11 -inch  guns  which  would  shoot  straight  and  not 
"droop"  at  the  muzzle,  our  Navy  was  designing 
and  making  12-inch  and  13.5-inch  weapons  of 
far  greater  power  and  accuracy;  when  Krupps 
had  at  last  achieved  good  12-inch  guns,  we  were 
turning  out  rapidly  15-inch  weapons  of  equal 
precision  and  far  greater  power.  In  naval  guns 
Krupps  lag  far  behind  us.  And  even  in  land 
guns — well,  the  huge  seige  howitzers  which  bat- 
tered Liege  and  Namur  into  powder,  came  not 
from  Essen  but  from  the  Austrian  Skoda  Works  at 
Pilsen!  And  among  field  guns,  the  best  of  the 
best  by  universal  acclaim  is  the  French  Soizante 
Quinze,  in  design  and  workmanship  entirely  the 
product  of  French  artistic  skill.  War  is  a  sad 
leveller,  and  it  has  not  been  very  kind  to  Krupps. 

Collectively,  the  Navy  is  a  fount  of  serene 
knowledge  and  wisdom,  and  has  been  fully  con- 
scious of  its  superiority  in  men,  in  ships,  and  in 
guns,  but  individual  naval  officers  afloat  or  ashore 
are  not  always  either  learned  or  wise.  Foolish 
things  were  thought  and  said  in  1913  and  in  1914, 
which  one  can  now  recall  with  a  smile  and  charitably 
endeavour  to  forget. 

The  Royal  Navy  was,  and  is,  as  superior  to 
that  of  Germany  hi  officers  and  men  as  in  ships 
and  in  guns.  Indeed  the  one  is  the  direct  and 
inevitable  consequence  of  the  other.  Ships  and 
guns  are  not  imposed  upon  the  Navy  by  some 


54  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

outside  intelligence;  they  are  secretions  from 
the  brains  and  experience  and  traditions  of  the 
Service  itself;  they  are  the  expressions  in  ma- 
chinery of  its  Soul.  One  always  comes  back  to 
this  fundamental  fact  when  making  any  comparison 
of  relative  values  in  men  or  in  machines.  It 
was  the  Navy's  Soul  which  conceived  and  made 
ready  the  ships  and  the  guns.  The  officers  and 
men  are  the  temporary  embodiment  of  that  im- 
mortal Soul;  it  is  preserved  and  developed  in 
them,  and  through  them  is  passed  on  to  succeeding 
generations  in  the  Service. 

Though  the  German  Navy  had  not  had  time 
or  opportunity  to  evolve  within  itself  that  dominant 
moral  force  which  I  have  called  a  naval  Soul,  it 
contained  both  officers  and  men  of  notable  fighting 
quality  and  efficiency.  The  Royal  Navy  no  more 
under-rated  the  personality  of  its  German  oppo- 
nents than  it  under-rated  their  ships  and  their 
guns.  We  English,  though  in  foreign  eyes  we 
may  appear  to  be  self-satisfied,  even  bumptious, 
are  at  heart  rather  diffident.  No  nation  on  earth 
publicly  depreciates  itself  as  we  do;  no  nation 
is  so  willing  to  proclaim  its  own  weaknesses  and 
follies  and  crimes.  Much  of  this  self-deprecia- 
tion is  mere  humbug,  little  more  sincere  than  our 
confession  on  Sunday  that  we  are  ''miserable 
sinners,"  but  much  of  it  is  the  result  of  our  native 
diffidence.  No  Scotsman  was  ever  mistrustful  of 
himself  or  of  his  race,  but  very  many  Englishmen 
quite  genuinely  are.  And  the  Navy  being,  as  it 
always  has  been,  English  of  the  English,  tends 
to  be  modest,  even  diffident.  It  is  always  learning, 
always  testing  itself,  always  seeking  after  improve- 
ment; it  realises  out  of  the  fullness  of  its  ex- 


THE  COMING  OF  WAR  55 

perience  how  much  still  remains  to  be  learned, 
and  becomes  inevitably  diffident  of  its  very  great 
knowledge  and  skill.  No  man  is  so  modest  as 
the  genuine  unchallengeable  expert. 

If  one  cannot  improvise  ships  and  guns  of  the 
highest  quality  by  an  exercise  of  the  Imperial  will, 
still  less  can  one  improvise  the  officers  and  men 
who  have  to  man  and  use  them.  But  Germany 
tried  to  do  both.  The  German  Navy  could  not 
secrete  its  ships  and  guns,  for  there  was  no  consider- 
able German  navy  a  score  of  years  ago;  the 
machines  were  designed  and  provided  for  it  by 
Vulcan  and  Schichau  and  Krupps,  and  the  per- 
sonnel to  fight  them  had  to  be  collected  and  trained 
from  out  of  the  best  available  material.  The 
officers  were  largely  drawn  from  Prussian  families 
which  for  generations  had  served  in  the  Army,  and 
had  in  their  blood  that  sense  of  discipline  and 
warlike  fervour  which  are  invaluable  in  the  leaders 
of  any  fighting  force.  But  they  had  in  them  also 
the  ruthless  temper  of  the  German  Army,  which 
we  have  seen  revealed  in  its  frightful  worst  in 
Belgium,  Serbia  and  Poland;  they  knew  nothing 
of  that  kindly  chivalrous  spirit  which  is  born  out 
of  the  wide  salt  womb  of  the  Sea  Mother.  Many 
of  these  officers,  though  lacking  hi  the  Sea  Spirit, 
were  highly  competent  at  their  work.  Von  Spec's 
Pacific  Squadron,  which  beat  Craddock  off  Coronel 
and  was  a  little  later  annihilated  by  Sturdee  off 
the  Falkland  Islands,  was,  officer  for  officer  and 
man  for  man,  almost  as  good  as  our  best.  The 
German  Pacific  Squadron  was  nearer  the  realisa- 
tion of  the  naval  Soul  than  was  any  other  part 
of  the  German  Navy.  Admiral  Von  Spec  was  a 
gallant  and  chivalrous  gentleman,  and  the  captain 


55 

of  the  Emden,  ingenious,  gay,  humorous,  unspoiled 
in  success  and  undaunted  in  defeat,  was  as  English 
in  spirit  as  he  was  unlike  most  of  his  compatriots 
in  sentiment.  The  Navy  and  the  public  at  home 
were  right  when  they  acclaimed  Von  Spee  and 
von  Mtiller  as  seamen  worthy  to  rank  with  their 
own  Service. 

The  German  Pacific  Squadron,  being  on  foreign 
service,  had  not  only  picked  officers  of  outstanding 
merit,  but  also  long-service  crews  of  unpressed 
men.  It  was,  therefore,  hi  organisation  and  per- 
sonnel much  more  akin  to  our  Navy  than  was 
the  High  Seas  Fleet  at  home  in  which  the  men 
were  for  the  most  part  conscripts  on  short  service 
(three  years)  from  the  Baltic,  Elbe  and  inland 
provinces.  In  our  Service  the  sailors  and  marines 
join  for  twenty-one  years,  and  hi  actual  practice 
frequently  serve  very  much  longer.  They  begin 
as  children  in  training-ships  and  in  the  schools 
attached  to  Marine  barracks,  and  often  continue 
in  middle  life  as  grave  men  in  the  petty  and 
warrant  officer  ranks.  The  Naval  Service  is  the 
work  of  their  lives  just  as  it  is  with  the  com- 
missioned officers.  But  in  the  German  High  Seas 
Fleet,  with  its  three  years  of  forced  service,  a 
man  was  no  sooner  half-trained  than  his  time 
was  up  and  he  gladly  made  way  for  a  raw  recruit. 
The  German  crews  were  not  of  the  Sea  nor  of  the 
Service.  During  the  war,  n'o  doubt,  they  became 
better  trained.  The  experienced  seamen  were  not 
discharged  and  the  general  level  of  skill  arose; 
the  best  were  passed  into  the  submarines  which 
alone  of  the  Fleet  were  continuously  at  work  on 
the  sea.  In  our  own  Navy,  in  consequence  of 
the  very  great  increase  in  the  number  of  ships, 


THE  COMING  OF  WAR  57 

both  large  and  small,  the  professional  sailors  had 
to  be  diluted  by  the  calling  up  of  Naval  Reservists, 
and  by  the  expansion  of  the  Royal  Naval  Volunteer 
Reserve.  But  unlike  Germany  we  had,  fortunately 
for  ourselves,  an  almost .  limitless  maritime  popu- 
lation from  which  to  draw  the  new  naval  elements. 
Eishermen  at  the  call  of  their  country  flocked  into 
the  perilous  service  of  mine  sweeping  and  patrol- 
ling, young  men  from  the  seaports  readily  joined 
the  Volunteer  detachments  in  training  for  the 
great  ships,  dilution  was  carried  on  deftly  and  with 
so  clear  a  judgment  that  the  general  level  of 
efficiency  all  round  was  almost  completely  main- 
tained. That  this  was  possible  is  not  so  remark- 
able as  it  sounds.  The  Royal  Navy  of  the  fighting 
ships,  even  after  the  war  expansion,  remained  a 
very  small  select  service  of  carefully  chosen  men. 
Half  of  its  personnel  was  professional  and  per- 
fectly trained,  the  second  and  new  half  was  so 
mingled  and  stirred  up  with  the  first  that  the 
professional  leaven  permeated  the  whole  mass. 
The  Army  which  desired  millions  had  to  take  what 
it  could  get;  but  the  Navy,  which  counts  its  men 
in  tens  of  thousands  only,  could  pick  and  choose 
of  the  best.  In  the  Army  the  old  Regulars  were 
either  killed  or  swamped  under  the  flood  of  new 
entrants;  in  the  Navy  the  professionals  remained 
always  predominant.  It  was  very  characteristic 
of  the  proud  exclusiveness  of  our  Royal  Navy, 
very  characteristic  of  its  haughty  Soul,  that  the 
temporary  officers  were  allotted  rank  marks  which 
distinguished  them  at  a  glance,  even  of  civilian 
eyes,  from  the  regular  Service. 

Though,  as  events  proved,  the  Royal  Navy  need 
have  felt  little  anxiety  about  the  result  of  a  fair 


58  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

trial  of  strength  with  its  German  opponents,  there 
was  one  ever-present  justification  for  that  deeper 
apprehension  with  which  the  Navy  in  peace 
regarded  an  outbreak  of  war.  It  really  was  feared 
lest  our  Government  should  leave  to  the  Germans 
the  moment  for  beginning  hostilities.  It  was 
feared  lest  while  politicians  were  waiting  and  seeing 
the  Germans  would  strike  suddenly  at  their 
"selected  moment,"  and  by  a  well-planned  torpedo 
and  submarine  attack  in  time  of  supposed  peace, 
would  put  themselves  in  a  position  of  substantial 
advantage.  There  was  undoubted  ground  for  this 
fear.  The  German  Government  has  not,  and  never 
has  had,  any  scruples;  it  has  no  moral  standards; 
if  before  a  declaration  of  war  it  could  have  struck 
hard  and  successfully  at  our  Fleets  it  would  have 
seized  the  opportunity  without  hesitation.  And 
realising  this  with  the  clarity  of  vision  which 
distinguishes  the  Sea  Service,  the  Navy  feared 
lest  its  freedom  of  action  should  be  fatally  restricted 
at  the  very  moment  when  its  hands  needed  to  be 
most  free. 

A  distinguished  naval  captain — now  an  admiral 
— once  put  the  matter  before  me  plainly  from  the 
naval  point  of  view : 

"If  the  Germans  secretly  mobilise  at  a  moment 
when  a  third  of  our  big  ships  are  out  of  com- 
mission or  are  under  repair,  they  may  not  only 
by  a  sudden  torpedo  attack  cripple  our  battle 
squadrons,  but  may  open  the  seas  to  their  own 
cruisers  and  submarines.  We  might,  possibly 
should,  recover  in  time  to  deal  with  an  invasion, 
but  in  the  meantime  our  overseas  trade,  on  which 
you  people  depend  at  home  for  food  and  raw 
materials,  would  have  been  destroyed.  And  until 


THE  COMING  OF  WAR  59 

we  had  fully  recovered,  not  a  man  or  a  gun  could 
be  sent  over  sea  to  help  France." 

" Surely  we  should  have  some  warning,"  I 
objected. 

"You  won't  get  it  from  Germany,"  said  he 
gravely.  "The  little  old  man  (Roberts)  is  right. 
Germany  will  strike  when  Germany's  hour  has 
struck.  If  we  are  ready  she  will  have  no  chance 
at  all  and  knows  it;  she  will  not  give  us  a  chance 
to  be  ready.  When  she  wants  to  cover  a  secret 
mobilisation  she  will  invite  parties  of  journalists, 
or  provincial  mayors,  or  village  greengrocers  to 
visit  Berlin  and  to  see  for  themselves  how  peaceful 
her  intentions  are ! " 

That  is  how  the  Navy  felt  and  talked  during 
the  months  immediately  before  the  War,  and  who 
shall  say  that  their  apprehensions  were  not  well 
founded?  What  it  feared  was  unquestionably  pos- 
sible, even  probable.  But  happily  for  the  Navy, 
and  for  these  Islands  and  the  Empire  which  it 
guards,  those  whom  the  gods  seek  to  destroy 
they  first  drive  mad.  The  wisdom  of  Germany's 
rulers  was  by  all  of  us  immensely  over-rated. 
They  fell  into  the  utter  blindness  of  unimaginative 
stupidity.  They  understood  us  so  little  that  they 
thought  us  sure  to  desert  our  friends  rather  than 
risk  the  paint  upon  our  ships  and  the  skins  upon 
our  fat  and  slothful  bodies.  They  watched  us 
quarrelling  among  ourselves,  talking  savagely  of 
fighting  one  another  in  Ireland — we  went  on 
doing  these  things  until  July  28th,  1914,  four  days 
before  Germany  attacked  Belgium! — and  failed 
to  realise  that  the  ancient  fighting  spirit  was  as 
strong  in  us  as  ever,  however  much  it  might  seem 
to  be  smothered  under  the  rubbish  of  politics  and 


60  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

social  luxury.  And  meanwhile,  during  those  in- 
tensely critical  weeks  of  July,  while  Parliament 
chattered  about  Ulster  and  politicians  looked 
hungrily  for  the  soft  spots  in  one  another's  throats, 
the  Royal  Navy  was  quietly,  unostentatiously 
preparing  for  war.  What  the  Navy  then  did, — 
moving  in  all  things  with  its  own  silent,  serene, 
masterful  efficiency  and  grimly  thanking  God  for 
the  dense  political  gas  clouds  behind  which  it 
could  conceal  its  movements  from  the  enemy, — 
saved  not  only  Great  Britain  and  the  Empire; 
it  saved  the  civilisation  of  the  world. 

Blindly  Germany  went  on  with  her  preparations 
for  war  against  France  and  Russia,  including  in 
the  programme  the  swallowing  up  of  little  Belgium, 
and  left  us  wholly  out  of  her  calculations.  The 
German  battle  Fleet,  which  had  been  engaged 
in  peace  manceuvres,  was  cruising  off  the  Norwegian 
coast.  Grand  Admiral  Von  Tirpitz  had  never 
expected  us  to  intervene,  and  no  naval  preparations 
were  made.  The  Germans  were  in  no  position  to 
interfere  with  our  disposition,  or  to  move  their 
cruisers  upon  our  trade  communications.  But  all 
through  those  later  days  of  imminent  crisis  the 
English  First  Fleet  lay  mobilised  at  Portland, 
whither  it  had  moved  from  Spithead,  until  one 
night  it  slipped  silently  away  and  disappeared  into 
the  northern  mists.  The  Second  and  Third  Fleets 
had  been  filled  up  and  were  completely  ready  for 
war  in  the  early  summer  dawn  of  August  3rd. 
The  big  ships  rushed  to  their  war  stations  stretch- 
ing from  the  Thames  to  the  Orkneys  and  com- 
manding both  outlets  from  the  North  Sea;  the 
destroyers  and  submarines  swarmed  in  the  Channel 
and  off  the  sand-locked  German  bases.  The  hour 


THE  COMING  OF  WAR  61 

had  struck,  everything  had  been  done  exactly  as 
had  been  planned.  The  German  Fleet  crept  into 
safety  through  the  back  door  of  the  Kattegat  and 
Kiel,  and  on  the  evening  of  August  4th,  the  British 
Government  declared  war. 

Germany,  who  thought  to  catch  the  Navy  asleep, 
was  herself  caught.  She  had  never  believed  that 
we  either  would  or  could  fight  for  the  integrity  of 
Belgium.  She  went  on  blindly  in  her  appointed 
way  until  suddenly  her  sight  returned  in  a  flash 
of  bitter  realisation  that  the  Royal  Navy,  without 
firing  a  single  shot,  had  won  the  first  tremendous 
decisive,  irreparable  battle  in  the  coming  world's 
war.  Her  chance  of  success  at  sea  had  disappeared 
for  ever.  Before  her  lay  a  long  cruel  dragging 
fight  with  the  seas  closed  to  her  merchant  ships 
and  her  whole  Empire  in  a  state  of  blockade. 
No  wonder  that  then,  and  since,  Germany's  fiercest 
passion  of  hate  has  been  directed  against  us,  and 
above  all  against  that  Royal  Navy  which  shields 
us  and  strikes  for  us.  Before  a  shofr  had  been 
fired  she  saw  herself  outwitted,  outmanoeuvred, 
outfought.  ' '  Gott  strafe  England ! " 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    GKEAT   VICTORY 

IN  naval  warfare  there  are  many  actions  but  few 
battles.  An  action  is  any  engagement  between 
war  vessels  of  any  size,  but  a  battle  is  a  contest 
between  ships  of  the  battle-line — sometimes  called 
"capital  ships"  upon  the  results  of  which  de- 
pends the  vital  issues  of  a  war.  During  the  whole 
of  the  long  contest  with  Napoleon,  there  were  only 
two  battles  of  this  decisive  kind — the  Nile  and 
Trafalgar. 

And  although  the  fighting  by  sea  and  land 
went  on  for  ten  years  after  Trafalgar  had  given 
to  us  the  supreme  control  of  the  world's  seas, 
there  were  no  more  naval  battles.  Battles  at 
sea  are  very  rare  because,  when  fought  out,  they 
are  so  crushingly  decisive.  This  characteristic 
feature  of  the  great  naval  battle  has  been  greatly 
emphasised  by  modern  conditions.  Upon  land 
armies  have  outgrown  the  very  earth  itself;  fight- 
ing frontiers  have  become  lines  of  trenches;  battles 
have  become  the  mere  swaying  of  these  trench 
lines — a  ripple  here  or  there  marks  a  success  or 
failure — but  the  lines  re-formed  remain.  Even 
after  weeks  or  months  of  fighting,  if  the  lines 
remain  unbroken,  neither  side  has  reached  a 
decision.  War  upon  land  between  great  forces  is 
a  long  drawn-out  agony  of  attrition. 

62 


THE  GREAT  VICTORY  63 

But  while  battles  upon  land  have  become  much 
less  decisive  than  in  the  simpler  days  of  small 
armies  and  feeble  weapons,  fighting  upon  the 
sea  has  become  much  quicker,  much  more  crush- 
ingly  final,  in  its  effects  and  results  than  in  the 
days  of  our  grandfathers.  Speed  and  gun  power 
are  now  everything.  The  faster  and  more  power- 
ful fleet — more  powerful  in  its  capacity  for  dealing 
accurate  and  destructive  blows — can  annihilate 
its  enemy  completely  within  the  brief  hours  of  a 
single  day.  The  more  powerful  and  faster  his 
ships  the  less  will  the  victor  himself  suffer.  Only 
under  one  condition  can  a  defeated  fleet  escape 
annihilation,  and  that  is  when  the  lack  of  light  or 
of  sea  room  snatches  from  the  victor  a  final  de- 
cision. If  an  enemy  can  get  away  under  shelter 
of  his  shore  fortifications,  or  within  the  protection 
of  his  mine-fields,  he  can  defy  pursuit;  but  if 
there  be  ample  room  and  daylight  Speed  and  Power 
wielded  by  men  such  as  ours,  will  prevail  with 
absolute  mathematical  certainty — the  losers  will 
be  sunk,  the  victors  will,  by  comparison,  be  little 
damaged.  Every  considerable  engagement  during 
the  war  has  added  convincing  proof  to  the  con- 
clusions which  our  Navy  drew  from  the  decisive 
battle  in  the  Sea  of  Tsushima  between  the  Japanese 
and  the  Russians,  and  the  not  less  decisive  action 
upon  a  smaller  scale  in  which  the  Americans 
destroyed  the  Spanish  squadron  off  Santiago,  Cuba. 
In  both  cases  the  losers  were  destroyed  while  the 
victors  suffered  little  hurt.  These  outstanding 
lessons  were  not  lost  upon  the  Royal  Navy,  its 
officers  had  themselves  seen  both  fights,  and  so 
in  its  silent  way  the  Navy  pressed  upon  its  course 
always  seeking  after  more  speed,  more  gun  power, 


64  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

and  above  all  more  numbers.  "Only  numbers 
can  annihilate,"  said  Napoleon,  and  what  the 
Emperor  declared  to  be  true  of  land  fighting  is 
the  more  true  of  fighting  by  sea.  Only  numbers 
can  annihilate. 

Upon  the  evening  of  August  4th,  1914,  I  was 
sitting  in  a  London  office  beside  a  ticking  tape 
machine  awaiting  the  message  that  the  Germans 
had  declined  our  ultimatum  to  withdraw  from 
Belgium,  and  that  war  had  been  declared.  "There 
will  be  a  big  sea  battle  this  evening,"  observed  my 
companion.  "There  has  been  a  big  battle,"  ob- 
served I,  "but  it  is  now  over."  Although  he 
and  I  used  similar  language  we  attached  to  the 
words  very  different  meanings.  He  thought,  as 
the  bulk  of  the  British  people  thought  at  that 
time,  that  the  British  and  German  battle  fleets 
would  meet  and  fight  off  the  Frisian  Islands.  But 
I  meant,  and  felt  sure,  that  the  last  thing  our 
Grand  Fleet  desired  was  to  fight  in  restricted  and 
dangerous  waters,  amid  the  perils  of  mines  and 
submarines,  when  it  had  already  won  the  greatest 
fight  of  the  war  without  firing  a  shot  or  risking  a 
single  ship  or  man.  There  had  been  no  "battle" 
in  the  popular  sense,  but  there  had  in  fact  been 
achieved  a  tremendous  dicisive  victory  which 
through  all  the  long  months  to  follow  would 
dominate  the  whole  war  by  sea  and  by  land.  Our 
great  battleships  were  at  that  moment  cruising 
between  Scapa  Flow  in  the  Orkneys  and  the 
Cromarty  Firth  on  the  north-eastern  shores  of 
Scotland.  Our  fastest  battle  cruisers  were  in  the 
Firth  of  Forth  together  with  many  of  the  better 
pre-Dreadnought  battleships  which,  though  too 
slow  for  a  fleet  action,  had  heavy  batteries  available 


THE  GREAT  VICTORY  65 

for  a  close  fight  in  narrow  waters.  Many  other 
older  and  slower  battleships  and  cruisers  were  in 
the  Thames.  The  narrow  straits  of  Dover  were 
thickly  patrolled  by  destroyers  and  submarines, 
and  more  submarines  and  destroyers  were  on 
watch  off  the  mouths  of  the  Weser,  the  Jade,  the 
Elbe  and  the  Ems.  Light  cruisers  hovered  still 
farther  to  the  north  where  the  Skagerrak  opens 
between  Denmark  and  the  Norwegian  coast.  The 
North  Sea  had  become  a  mare  clausum — no  longer, 
as  the  mapmakers  term  it,  a  German  Ocean,  but 
one  which  at  a  single  stroke  had  become  over- 
whelmingly British. 

Take  a  map  of  the  North  Sea  and  consider  with 
me  for  a  moment  the  relative  strengths  and  dis- 
positions of  the  opposing  battle  fleets.  There 
was  nothing  complicated  or  super-subtle  about 
the  Royal  Navy's  plans;  on  the  contrary  they 
had  that  beautiful  compelling  simplicity  which  is 
the  characteristic  feature  of  all  really  great  designs 
whether  in  war  or  in  peace. 

There  are  two  outlets  to  the  North  Sea,  one  wide 
to  the  north  and  west  beyond  the  Shetlands,  the 
other  narrow  and  shallow  to  the  south-west  through 
the  Straits  of  Dover.  The  Straits  are  only  twenty- 
one  miles  wide;  opposite  the  north  of  Scotland 
the  Sea  is  300  miles  wide.  But  before  German 
battleships  or  cruisers  could  get  away  towards 
the  wide  north-western  outlet  beyond  the  Shet- 
lands they  would  have  to  steam  some  400  miles 
north  of  Heligoland.  Except  for  the  Pacific  Squad- 
ron based  upon  Tsing-tau  in  the  Far  East  and 
cruising  upon  the  east  and  west  coasts  of  Mexico, 
all  the  fleets  of  our  enemy  were  at  his  North 
Sea  ports  or  in  the  Baltic — a  land-locked  sheet 


66  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

of  water  which  for  the  moment  is  out  of  our 
picture.  From  Heligoland  to  Scapa  Flow  in  the 
Orkneys — where  Admiral  Jellicoe  had  his  head- 
quarters and  where  he  had  under  his  hand  twenty- 
two  of  our  most  powerful  battleships — is  less  than 
550  miles.  Jellicoe  had  also  with  him  large  num- 
bers of  armoured  and  light  cruisers.  In  the  Firth 
of  Forth,  less  than  500  miles  from  Heligoland, 
Admiral  Beatty  had  five  of  the  fastest  and  most 
powerful  battle  cruisers  afloat  and  great  quan- 
tities of  lighter  cruisers  and  destroyers.  In  the 
Thames,  about  350  miles  from  Heligoland,  lay 
most  of  our  slower  and  less  powerful  pre-Dread- 
nought  battleships  and  cruisers,  vessels  of  a  past 
generation  in  naval  construction,  but  in  their 
huge  numbers  and  collective  armaments  a  very 
formidable  force  to  encounter  in  the  narrow  waters 
of  the  Straits  of  Dover. 

Three  possible  courses  of  action  lay  before  the 
German  Naval  Staff.  They  had  at  their  disposal 
seventeen  battleships  and  battle  cruisers  built 
since  the  first  Dreadnought  revolutionised  the  battle 
line,  but,  as  I  have  already  pointed  out,  these 
vessels,  class  for  class  and  gun  for  gun,  were 
lighter,  slower,  and  less  well  armed  than  were  the 
twenty-seven  great  war  vessels  at  the  disposal 
of  Jellicoe  and  Beatty.  The  Germans  could  have 
tried  to  break  away  to  the  north  with  their  whole 
battle  fleet,  escorting  all  their  lighter  cruisers,  in 
the  hope  that  while  the  battle  fleets  were  engaged 
the  cruisers  might  escape  round  the  north  of  Scot- 
land, and  get  upon  our  trade  routes  in  the  Atlantic. 
That  was  their  first  possible  line  of  action — a 
desperate  one,  since  Jellicoe  and  Beatty  with 
much  stronger  forces  lay  upon  the  flank  of  their 


THE  GREAT  VICTORY 


67 


tf> 


"I«A.  ••^''S 

<£T"">f 

I* >  *L 

*%— 


r  RANG  I - 


Scale  of    Miles 


50  0  IOC  200 

THE    NORTH   SEA. 


68  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

course  to  the  north,  and  the  preponderating  strength 
and  swiftness  of  our  light  and  heavy  cruisers  would 
have  meant,  in  all  human  probability,  not  only 
the  utter  destruction  of  the  enemy's  battle  fleet 
but  also  the  wiping  out  of  his  would-be  raiders. 
Our  cruisers  could  have  closed  the  passages  between 
the  Orkneys  and  Iceland  long  before  the  Germans 
could  have  reached  them.  This  first  heroic  dash 
for  the  free  spaces  of  the  outer  seas  would  have 
been  so  eminently  gratifying  to  us  that  it  is  scarcely 
surprising  that  the  Germans  denied  us  its  blissful 
realisation. 

The  second  possible  course,  apparently  less 
heroic  but  in  its  ultimate  results  probably  as 
completely  destructive  for  the  enemy  as  the  first 
course,  would  have  been  to  bear  south-west,  hugging 
the  shallows  as  closely  as  might  be  possible,  and 
to  endeavour  to  break  a  way  through  the  Straits 
of  Dover  and  the  English  Channel.  From  Heligo- 
land to  the  Straits  is  over  350  miles,  and  we  should 
have  known  all  about  the  German  dash  long 
before  they  could  have  reached  the  Narrows. 
Those  Narrow  Seas  are  like  the  neck  of  a  bottle 
which  would  have  been  corked  most  effectually 
by  our  serried  masses  of  pre-Dreadnought  battle- 
ships and  cruisers  interspersed  by  swarming  hun- 
dreds of  submarines  and  destroyers  with  their 
vicious  torpedo  stings.  We  can  quite  understand 
how  the  Germans,  who  had  read  Sir  Percy  Scott's 
observations  of  a  month  or  two  before  on  the 
deadliness  of  submarines  in  narrow  waters,  liked 
a  dash  for  the  Straits  as  little  as  they  relished 
a  battle  with  Jellicoe  and  Beatty  in  the  far  north, 
more  especially  as  their  line  of  retreat  would  have 
been  cut  off  by  the  descent  from  their  northern 


THE  GREAT  VICTORY  69 

fastnesses  of  our  battle  fleets.  Not  then,  nor  a 
week  or  two  later  when  we  were  passing  our 
Expeditionary  Force  across  the  Channel,  did  the 
Germans  attempt  to  break  through  the  Straits 
and  cut  us  off  from  our  Allies  the  French. 

The  third  course  was  the  one  which  the  Germans 
in  fact  took.  It  was  the  famous  course  of  Brer 
Rabbit,  to  lie  low  and  say  nuffin',  and  to  wait  for 
happier  times  when  perchance  the  raids  of  their 
own  submarines,  and  our  losses  from  mines,  might 
so  far  diminish  our  fighting  strength  as  to  permit 
them  to  risk  a  Battle  of  the  Giants  with  some 
little  prospect  of  success.  And  in  adopting  this 
waiting  policy  they  did  what  we  least  desired  and 
what,  therefore,  was  the  safest  for  them  and  most 
embarrassing  for  us.  Never  at  any  time  did  we 
attempt  to  prevent  the  German  battle  fleets  from 
coming  out.  We  no  more  blockaded  them  than 
Nelson  a  hundred  years  earlier  blockaded  the 
French  at  Toulin  and  Brest.  We  maintained, 
as  Nelson  did,  a  perpetual  unsleeping  watch  on 
the  enemy's  movements,  but  our  desire  always 
was  the  same  as  Nelson's — to  let  the  enemy  come 
out  far  enough  to  give  us  space  and  time  within 
which  to  compass  his  complete  and  final  destruc- 
tion. 

Although  the  Germans,  by  adopting  a  waiting 
policy,  prevented  the  Royal  Navy  from  fulfilling 
its  first  duty — the  seeking  out  and  destruction  of 
an  enemy's  fighting  fleets — their  inaction  em- 
phasised the  completeness  of  the  Victory  of  Brains 
and  Soul  which  the  Navy  had  won  during  those 
few  days  before  the  outbreak  of  war.  It  was 
because  our  mobilisation  had  been  so  prompt  and 
complete,  it  was  because  the  disposition  of  our 


70  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

fleets  had  been  so  perfectly  conceived,  that  the 
Germans  dared  not  risk  a  battle  with  us  in  the 
open  and  were  unable  to  send  out  their  cruisers 
to  cut  off  our  trading  ships  and  to  break  our 
communications  with  France.  Although  the 
enemy's  fleets  had  not  been  destroyed,  they  had 
been  rendered  very  largely  impotent.  We  held, 
more  completely  than  we  did  even  after  the  crown- 
ing mercy  of  Trafalgar,  the  command  of  the  seas 
of  the  world.  The  first  great  battle  was  blood- 
less but  complete,  it  had  won  for  us  and  for  the 
civilised  world  a  very  great  victory,  and  the 
Royal  Navy  had  never  in  its  long  history  more 
fully  realised  and  revealed  its  tremendous  uncon- 
querable Soul. 


It  may  be  of  some  little  interest,  now  that  the 
veil  of  secrecy  can  be  partly  raised,  to  describe 
the  opposing  battle  fleets  upon  which  rested  the 
decision  of  victory  or  defeat.  Before  the  war  it 
had  become  the  habit  of  many  critics,  both  naval 
and  civilian,  to  exalt  the  striking  power  of  the 
torpedo  craft — both  destroyers  and  submarines — 
and  to  talk  of  the  great  battleship  as  an  obsolete 
monster,  as  some  vast  Mammoth  at  the  mercy  of 
a  wasp  with  a  poison  sting.  But  the  war  has 
shown  that  the  Navy  was  right  to  hold  to  the  deep 
beliefs,  the  outcome  of  all  past  experience,  that 
supremacy  in  the  battle  line  means  supremacy  in 
Sea  Control.  The  smaller  vessels,  cruisers,  and 
mosquito  craft,  are  vitally  necessary  for  their 
several  roles, — without  them  the  great  ships  cannot 
carry  out  a  commercial  blockade,  cannot  protect 
trade  or  transports,  cannot  conduct  those  hundreds 


THE  GREAT  VICTORY  71 

of  operations  both  of  offence  and  defence  which 
fall  within  the  duties  of  a  complete  Navy.  But 
the  ultimate  decision  rests  with  the  Battle  Fleets. 
They  are  the  Fount  of  Power.  While  they  are 
supreme,  the  seas  are  free  to  the  smaller  active 
vessels;  without  such  supremacy,  the  seas  are 
closed  to  all  craft,  except  to  submarines  and,  as 
events  have  proved,  to  a  large  extent  even  to  those 
under-water  wasps. 

In  August,  1914,  our  Battle  Fleets  available 
for  the  North  Sea — and  at  the  moment  of  supreme 
test  no  vessels,  however  powerful,  wrhich  were 
not  on  the  spot  were  of  any  account  at  all — were 
not  at  their  full  strength.  The  battleships  were 
all  at  home — the  ten  Dreadnoughts,  each  with 
ten  12-inch  guns,  the  four  Orions,  the  four  K.G.V.s 
and  the  four  Iron  Dukes,  each  with  their  ten 
13.5-inch  guns  far  more  powerful  than  the  earlier 
Dreadnoughts, — and  were  all  fully  mobilised  by 
August  3rd.  But  of  our  nine  fast  and  invaluable 
battle  cruisers  as  many  as  four  were  far  away. 
The  Australia  was  at  the  other  side  of  the  globe, 
and  three  others  had  a  short  time  before  been 
despatched  to  the  Mediterranean.  Beatty  had  the 
Lion,  Queen  Mary,  and  Princess  Royal,  each  with 
eight  13.5-inch  guns  and  twenty-nine  knots  of 
speed,  in  addition  to  the  New  Zealand,  and  In- 
vincible each  with  eight  12-inch  guns.  The  First 
Lord  of  the  Admiralty  announced  quite  correctly 
that  we  had  mobilised  thirty-one  ships  of  the 
battle  line,  but  actually  in  the  North  Sea  at  their 
war  stations  upon  that  fateful  evening  of  August 
4th — which  now  seems  so  long  ago — Jellicoe  and 
Beatty  had  twenty-seven  only  of  first  line  ships. 
They  were  enough  as  it  proved,  but  one  rather 


72  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

grudged  at  that  time,  those  three  in  the  Medi- 
terranean and  the  Australia  at  the  Antipodes. 
Had  there  been  a  battle  of  the  Giants  we  should 
have  needed  them  all,  for  only  numbers  can 
annihilate.  Jellicoe  had,  in  addition  to  those 
which  I  have  reckoned,  the  Lord  Nelson  and 
Agamemnon — pre-Dreadnoughts,  each  with  four 
12-inch  guns  and  ten  9.2-inch  guns — useful  ships 
but  not  of  the  first  battle  line. 

Opposed  to  our  twenty-seven  available  monsters 
the  Germans  had  under  their  hands  eighteen  com- 
pleted vessels  of  their  first  line.  I  do  not  count 
in  this  select  company  the  armoured  cruiser 
Bliicher,  with  her  twelve  8-inch  guns,  which  was 
sunk  later  on  in  the  Dogger  Bank  action  by  the 
13.5-inch  weapons  of  Beatty's  great  cruisers. 
Neither  do  I  count  the  fine  cruiser  Goeben,  a  fast 
vessel  with  ten  11-inch  guns  which,  like  our  three 
absent  battle  cruisers,  was  in  the  Mediterranean. 
The  Goeben  escaped  later  to  the  Dardanelles  and 
ceased  to  be  on  the  North  Sea  roll  of  the  German 
High  Seas  Fleet. 

Germany  had,  then,  eighteen  battleships  and 
battle  cruisers,  and  had  it  been  known  to  the 
public  that  our  apparent  superiority  in  available 
numbers  was  only  50  per  cent,  in  the  North  Sea, 
many  good  people  might  have  trembled  for  the 
safety  of  their  homes  and  for  the  honour  of  their 
wives  and  daughters.  But  luckily  they  did  not 
know,  for  they  could  with  difficulty  have  been 
brought  to  understand  that  naval  superiority  rests 
more  in  speed  and  in  quality  and  in  striking 
power  than  in  the  mere  numbers  of  ships.  When 
I  have  said  that  numbers  only  can  annihilate, 
I  mean,  of  course,  numbers  of  equal  or  superior 


THE  GREAT  VICTORY  73 

ships.  In  quality  of  ships  and  especially  of  men, 
in  speed  and  in  striking  power,  our  twenty-seven 
ships  had  fully  double  the  strength  of  the  eighteen 
Germans  who  might  have  been  opposed  to  them 
in  battle.  None  of  our  vessels  carried  anything 
smaller — for  battle — than  12-inch  guns,  and  fifteen 
of  them  bore  within  their  turrets  the  new  13.5-inch 
guns  of  which  the  weight  of  shell  and  destructive 
power  were  more  than  50  per  cent,  greater  than 
that  of  the  earlier  12-inch  weapons.  On  the 
other  hand,  four  of  the  German  battleships  (the 
Nassau  class)  carried  11 -inch  guns  and  were  fully 
two  knots  slower  hi  speed  than  any  of  the  British 
first  line.  Three  of  their  battle  cruisers  also  had 
11 -inch  guns.  While  therefore  we  had  guns  of 
12  and  13.5  inches  the  Germans  had  nothing  more 
powerful  to  oppose  to  us  than  guns  of  11  and  12 
inches.  Ship  for  ship  the  Germans  were  about 
two  knots  slower  than  ourselves,  so  that  we  always 
had  the  advantage  of  manoeuvre,  the  choosing  of 
the  most  effective  range,  and  the  power  of  pre- 
venting by  our  higher  speed  the  escape  of  a  defeated 
foe.  Had  the  Germans  come  north  into  the  open 
sea,  we  could  have  chosen  absolutely,  by  virtue 
of  our  greater  speed,  gun  power  and  numbers,  the 
conditions  under  which  an  action  should  have 
been  fought  and  how  it  should  have  been  brought 
to  a  finish. 

An  inch  or  two  in  the  bore  of  a  naval  gun,  a  few 
feet  more  or  less  of  length,  may  not  seem  much 
to  some  of  my  readers.  But  they  should  remember 
that  the  weight  of  a  shell,  and  the  weight  of  its 
explosive  charge,  vary  as  the  cube  of  its  diameter. 
A  12-inch  shell  is  a  third  heavier  than  one  of 
11  inches,  while  a  13.5-inch  shell  is  more  than 


74  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

one-half  heavier  than  a  12-inch  and  twice  as 
heavy  as  one  of  11  inches  only.  The  power  of  the 
bursting  charge  varies  not  as  the  weight,  but  as 
the  square  of  the  weight  of  a  shell.  The  Germans 
were  very  slow  to  learn  the  naval  lesson  of  the 
superiority  of  the  bigger  gun  and  the  heavier 
shell.  It  was  not  until  after  the  Dogger  Bank 
action  when  Beatty's  monstrous  13.5-inch  shells 
broke  in  a  terrible  storm  upon  their  lighter-armed 
battle  cruisers  that  the  truth  fully  came  home  to 
them.  Had  Jellicoe  and  Beatty  fought  the  German 
Fleet  in  the  wide  spaces  of  the  upper  North  Sea 
in  August,  1914,  we  should  have  opposed  a  fighting 
efficiency  in  power  and  weight  of  guns  of  more 
than  two  to  one.  Rarely  have  the  precious  quali- 
ties of  insight  and  foresight  been  more  strikingly 
shown  forth  than  in  the  superiority  in  ships,  in 
guns,  and  in  men  that  the  Royal  Navy  was  able 
to  range  against  their  German  antagonists  in  those 
early  days  of  August,  when  the  fortunes  of  the 
Empire  would  have  turned  upon  the  chances  of 
a  naval  battle.  In  the  long  contest  waged  between 
1900  and  1914,  in  the  bloodless  war  of  peace,  the 
spiritual  force  of  the  Navy  had  gained  the  victory; 
the  enemy  had  been  beaten,  and  knew  it,  and 
thenceforward  for  many  months,  until  the  spring 
of  1916,  he  abode  in  his  tents.  Whenever  he  did 
venture  forth  it  was  not  to  give  battle  but  to  kill 
some  women,  some  babes,  and  then  to  scuttle 
home  to  proclaim  the  dazzling  triumph  which 
"Gott"  had  granted  to  his  arms. 


It  may  seem  to  many  a  fact  most  extraordinary 
that  in  August,  1914,  not  one  of  our  great  ships 


THE  GREAT  VICTORY  75 

of  the  first  class — the  so-called  "super-Dread- 
noughts"— upon  which  we  depended  for  the  dom- 
ination of  the  seas  and  the  security  of  the  Em- 
pire, not  one  was  more  than  three  years  old. 
The  four  Orions — Orion,  Conqueror,  Thunderer 
and  Monarch — were  completed  in  1911  and  1912. 
The  four  K.G.  Fives — King  George  V,  Centurion, 
Ajax,  and  Audacious  in  1912  and  1913;  and  the 
four  Iron  Dukes — Iron  Duke,  Marlborough,  Em- 
peror of  India  and  Beribow — in  1914.  All  these 
new  battleships  carried  ten  13.5-inch  guns  and 
had  an  effective  speed  of  nearly  23  knots.  The 
super-battle  cruisers — Lion,  Queen  Mary  and  Prin- 
cess Royal — were  completed  in  1912,  carried  eight 
13.5-inch  guns,  and  had  a  speed  of  over  29  knots. 
Upon  these  fifteen  ships,  not  one  of  which  was 
more  than  three  years  old,  depended  British  Sea 
Power.  The  Germans  had  nothing,  when  the  war 
broke  out,  which  was  comparable  with  these 
fifteen  splendid  monsters.  Their  first  line  battle- 
ships and  battle  cruisers  completed  in  the  corre- 
sponding years,  from  1911  to  1914 — their  "opposite 
numbers"  as  the  Navy  calls  them — were  not 
superior  in  speed,  design  and  power  of  guns  to 
our  Dreadnought  battleships  and  battle  cruisers, 
which  had  already  passed  into  the  second  class, 
and  which,  long  before  the  war  ended,  had  sunk 
to  the  third  class.  But  the  newness  and  over- 
whelming superiority  of  our  true  first  line  do  not 
surprise  those  who  realise  that  these  fifteen  great 
ships  were  the  fine  flower  of  our  naval  brains  and 
soul.  The  new  Navy  of  the  three  years  immedi- 
ately preceding  the  war  was  simply  the  old  Navy 
writ  large.  As  the  need  had  arisen,  so  had  the 
Navy  expanded  to  meet  it.  The  designs  for  these 


76  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

fifteen  ships  did  not  fall  down  from  Heaven;  they 
were  worked  out  in  naval  brains  years  before  they 
found  their  material  expression  in  steel.  The  vast 
ships  issued  forth  upon  the  seas,  crushingly  superior 
to  anything  which  our  enemy  could  put  into  com- 
mission against  us,  because  our  naval  brains  were 
superior  to  his  and  our  naval  Soul  was  to  his  as 
a  white  glowing  flame  to  a  tallow  candle.  In  a 
sentence,  while  Germany  was  laboriously  copying 
our  Dreadnoughts  we  had  cast  their  designs  aside, 
and  were  producing  at  a  speed,  with  which  he 
could  not  compete,  Orions,  K.G.  Fives,  Iron  Dukes 
and  Lions. 


The  North  Sea,  large  as  it  may  appear  upon  a 
map,  is  all  too  small  for  the  manoeuvres  of  swift 
modern  fleets.  No  part  of  that  stretch  of  water 
which  lies  south  of  the  Dogger  Bank — say,  from 
the  Yorkshire  coast  to  Jutland — is  far  enough 
removed  from  the  German  bases  to  allow  of  a  sure 
and  decisive  fleet  action.  There  was  no  possibility 
here  of  a  clean  fight  to  a  finish.  An  enemy  might 
be  hammered  severely,  some  of  his  vessels  might 
be  sunk — Beatty  showed  the  German  battle  cruisers 
what  we  could  do  even  in  a  stern  chase  at  full 
speed — but  he  could  not  be  destroyed.  On  the 
afternoon  and  night  of  May  3 1st- June  1st,  1916, 
the  Grand  Fleet  had  the  enemy  enveloped  and 
ripe  for  destruction,  but  were  robbed  of  full  vic- 
tory by  mist  and  darkness  and  the  lack  of  sea 
room.  Nelson  spoke  with  the  Soul  of  the  Navy 
when  he  declared  that  a  battle  was  not  won  when 
any  enemy  ship  was  enabled  to  escape  destruction. 
So  while  the  divisions  of  the  Grand  Fleet,  and 


THE  GREAT  VICTOR  77, 

especially  the  fastest  battle  cruisers  of  some 
twenty-eight  to  twenty-nine  knots  speed  (about 
thirty-three  miles  per  hour)  neglected  no  oppor- 
tunity to  punish  the  enemy  ships  that  might 
venture  forth,  what  every  man  from  Jellicoe  to 
the  smallest  ship  boy  really  longed  and  prayed 
for,  was  a  brave  ample  battle  in  the  deep  wide 
waters  of  the  north.  Here  there  was  room  for  a 
newer  and  greater  Trafalgar,  though  even  here  the 
sea  was  none  too  spacious.  Great  ships,  which 
move  with  the  speed  of  a  fairly  fast  tram  and 
shoot  to  the  extreme  limits  of  the  visible  horizon, 
really  require  a  boundless  Ocean  in  which  to  do 
their  work  with  naval  thoroughness.  But  the 
upper  North  Sea  would  have  served,  and  there 
the  Grand  Fleet  waited,  ever  at  work  though 
silent,  ever  watchfully  ready  for  the  Great  Day. 
And  while  it  waited  it  controlled  by  the  mere  fact 
of  its  tremendous  power  of  numbers,  weight,  and 
position  the  destinies  of  the  civilised  world. 


The  task  of  the  Royal  Navy  hi  the  war  would 
have  been  much  simpler  had  the  geography  of 
the  North  Sea  been  designed  by  Providence  to 
assist  us  hi  our  struggle  with  Germany.  We  made 
the  best  of  it,  but  were  always  sorely  handicapped 
by  it.  The  North  Sea  was  too  shallow,  too  well 
adapted  for  the  promiscuous  laying  of  mines,  and 
too  wide  at  its  northern  outlet  for  a  really  close 
blockade.  Had  the  British  Isles  been  slewed  round 
twenty  degrees  further  towards  Norway,  so  that 
the  outlet  to  the  north  was  as  narrow  as  that  to 
the  English  Channel — and  had  there  been  a  harbour 
big  enough  for  the  Grand  Fleet  between  the  Thames 


78  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

and  the  Firth  of  Forth — then  our  main  bases  could 
have  been  placed  nearer  to  Germany  and  our 
striking  power  enormously  increased.  We  could 
then  have  placed  an  absolute  veto  upon  the  raid- 
ing dashes  which  the  Germans  now  and  then 
made  upon  the  eastern  English  seaboard.  As 
the  position  in  fact  existed  we  could  not  place  any 
of  our  first  line  ships  further  south  than  the  Firth 
of  Forth — and  could  place  even  there  only  our 
fastest  vessels — without  removing  them  too  far 
from  the  Grand  Fleet's  main  concentration  at 
Scapa  Flow  in  the  Orkneys.  Invergordon  in  the 
Cromarty  Firth  was  used  as  a  rest  and  replenishing 
station.  The  German  raids — what  Admiral  Jel- 
licoe  called  their  tactics  of  "tip  and  run" — were 
exasperating,  but  they  could  not  be  allowed  to 
interfere  with  the  naval  dispositions  upon  which 
the  whole  safety  of  the  Empire  depended.  We 
had  to  depend  on  the  speed  of  our  battle  cruisers 
in  the  Firth  of  Forth  to  give  us  opportunity  to 
intercept  and  punish  the  enemy.  The  German 
battle  cruisers  which  fired  upon  Scarborough, 
Whitby,  and  the  Hartlepools  were  nearly  caught 
— a  few  minutes  more  of  valuable  time  and  a  little 
less  of  sea  haze  would  have  meant  their  destruc- 
tion. A  second  raid  was  anticipated  and  the 
resulting  Dogger  Bank  action  taught  the  enemy 
that  the  Navy  had  a  long  arm  and  long  sight. 
For  a  year  he  digested  the  lesson,  and  did  not  try 
his  luck  again  until  April,  1916,  when  he  dashed 
forth  and  raided  Lowestoft  on  the  Norfolk  coast. 
The  story  of  this  raid  is  interesting.  The  Grand 
Fleet  had  been  out  a  day  or  two  before  upon 
what  it  called  a  "stunt,"  a  parade  in  force  of  the 
Jutland  coast  and  the  entrance  to  the  Skaggerak. 


THE  GREAT  VICTORY  79 

It  had  hunted  for  the  Germans  and  found  them 
not,  and  returning  to  the  far  north  re-coaled  the 
ships.  The  Germans,  with  a  cleverness  which 
does  them  credit,  launched  their  Lowestoft  raid 
immediately  after  the  " stunt"  and  before  the 
battle  cruisers,  re-coaling,  could  be  ready  to  dash 
forth.  Even  as  it  was  they  did  not  cut  much  time 
to  waste.  It  was  a  dash  across,  a  few  shots,  and 
a  dash  back. 

Then  was  made  a  redisposition  of  the  British 
Squadrons,  not  in  the  least  designed  to  protect 
the  east  coast  of  England — though  the  enemy 
was  led  to  believe  so — but  so  to  strengthen  Beatty's 
Battle  Cruiser  Squadrons  that  the  enemy's  High 
Seas  Fleet,  when  met,  could  be  fought  and  held 
until  Jellicoe  with  his  battle  squadrons  could 
arrive  and  destroy  it.  The  re-disposition  con- 
sisted of  two  distinct  movements.  First:  the 
pre-Dreadnought  battleships  and  battle  cruisers 
which  had  been  stationed  in  the  Forth  were  sent 
to  the  Thames.  Second:  Admiral  Evan-Thomas's 
fifth  battle  squadron  of  five  Queen  Elizabeth 
battleships  (built  since  the  war  began) — of  twenty- 
five  knots  speed  and  each  carrying  eight  15-inch 
guns — Queen  Elizabeth,  Barham,  Valiant,  War- 
spite,  and  Malaya — were  sent  from  Scapa  to  the 
Firth  of  Forth  to  reinforce  Beatty  and  to  give 
him  a  support  which  would  enable  him  and  Evan- 
Thomas  to  fight  a  delaying  action  against  any 
force  which  the  Germans  could  put  to  sea.  Three 
of  the  Invincible  type  of  battle  cruisers  were  moved 
from  the  Forth  to  Scapa  to  act  as  Jellicoe's  advance 
guard,  and  to  enable  contact  to  be  quickly  made 
between  Beatty  and  Jellicoe.  But  for  this  change 
in  the  Grand  Fleet's  dispositions,  which  enabled 


80  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

the  four  splendid  battleships — Barham,  Valiant, 
Warspite  and  Malaya  (the  Queen  Elizabeth  was  in 
dock) — to  engage  the  whole  High  Seas  Fleet  on 
the  afternoon  of  May  31st,  1916,  while  Beatty 
headed  off  the  German  battle  cruisers  and  opened 
the  way  for  Jellicoe's  enveloping  movement,  the 
Battle  of  Jutland  could  never  have  been  fought. 


CHAPTER  IV 

WITH  THE   GRAND   FLEET:     A  NORTH    SEA    " STUNT" 
"So  young  and  so  untender! " — KING  LEAR 

FOR  more  than  eighteen  months  the  Grand  Fleet 
had  been  at  war.  It  was  the  centre  of  the  great 
web  of  blockading  patrols,  mine-sweeping  flotillas, 
submarine  hunters,  and  troop-transport  convoys, 
and  yet  as  a  Fleet  it  had  never  seen  the  enemy  nor 
fired  a  shot  except  in  practice.  The  last  battle 
cruisers,  stationed  nearest  to  the  .enemy  hi  the 
Firth  of  Forth  had  grabbed  all  the  sport  that  was 
going  in  the  Bight  of  Heligoland,  or  in  the  Dogger 
Bank  action.  But  though  several  of  the  vessels 
belonging  to  the  Grand  Fleet  had  picked  up  some 
share  in  the  fighting — at  the  Falkland  Islands 
and  in  the  Dardanelles — Jellicoe  with  his  splendid 
squadrons  still  waited  patiently  for  the  Day. 
The  perils  from  submarines  had  been  mastered, 
and  those  from  mines,  cast  into  the  seas  by  a  reck- 
less enemy,  had  been  made  of  little  account  by 
continuous  sweeping.  The  early  eagerness  of  offi- 
cers and  men  had  given  place  to  a  sedate  patience. 
At  short  intervals  the  vast  Fleet  would  issue 
forth  and,  attended  by  its  screen  of  destroyers  and 
light  cruisers,  would  make  a  stately  parade  of 
the  North  Sea.  All  were  prepared  for  battle  when 
it  came,  but  as  the  weeks  passed  into  months  and 

81 


82  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

the  months  into  years,  the  parades  became  practice 
"stunts,"  stripped  of  all  expectation  of  encounter- 
ing the  enemy  and  devoid  of  the  smallest  excite- 
ment. The  Navy  knows  little  of  excitement  or  of 
thrills — it  has  too  much  to  think  about  and  to 
do.  At  Action  Stations  in  a  great  ship,  not  one 
man  in  ten  ever  sees  anything  but  the  job  im- 
mediately before  him.  The  enemy,  if  enemy  there 
be  in  sight  from  the  spotting  tops,  is  hidden  from 
nine-tenths  of  the  officers  and  crew  by  steel  walls. 
So,  if  even  a  battle  be  devoid  of  thrills — except 
those  painfully  vamped  up  upon  paper  after  the 
event — a  ''stunt,"  without  expectation  of  battle, 
becomes  the  most  placid  of  sea  exercises.  I  will 
describe  such  a  "stunt"  as  faithfully  as  may  be, 
adding  thereto  a  little  imaginary  incident  which 
will,  I  hope,  gratify  the  reader,  even  though  he 
may  be  assured  in  advance  that  I  invented  it  for 
his  entertainment. 


It  was  the  beginning  of  the  afternoon  watch, 
and  the  vast  harbour  of  Scapa  Flow  was  very 
still  and  sunny  and  silent.  The  hands  were  sitting 
about  smoking,  or  "caulking"  after  their  dinner, 
and  the  noisome  "both  watches"  call  was  still 
some  fifteen  minutes  away.  But  though  every- 
thing appeared  to  be  perfectly  normal  and  sedate, 
an  observant  Officer  or  the  Watch,  looking  through 
the  haze  within  which  the  Fleet  flagship  lay  almost 
invisible  against  the  dark  hills,  could  see  a  little 
wisp  of  colour  float  to  her  yards  and  remain. 
Forthwith  up  to  the  yards  of  every  vessel  in  harbour 
ran  an  exactly  similar  hoist,  and  as  it  was  dipped 
on  the  flagship  it  disappeared  from  sight  upon  all. 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  83 

It  was  the  signal  to  prepare  for  sea,  and  now  mark 
exactly  how  such  a  signal — seemingly  so  momen- 
tous to  a  civilian — is  received  by  the  Navy  at  war. 
If  the  Officer  of  the  Watch  upon  a  ship  knows 
his  signals  he  will  put  his  glass  back  under  his 
arm  and  think,  "Good,  I've  got  off  two  days' 
harbour  watch  keeping  at  least;  my  first  and 
middle,  too."  The  signal  hands  on  the  bridge 
look  at  the  calm  sea,  which  will  for  once  not  drench 
them  and  skin  their  hands  on  the  halliards,  and 
gratefully  regard  the  windless  sky  under  which 
hoists  will  slide  obediently  up  the  mast  and  not 
tug  savagely  like  a  pair  of  dray  horses.  The  signal 
bos'n  turns  purple  with  fierce  resentment  which 
he  does  not  really  feel,  for  he  will  be  up  all  day 
and  half  the  night  beside  the  Officer  of  the  Watch 
on  the  bridge  rumiing  the  manoeuvring  signals, 
and  he  loves  to  feel  indispensable.  There  is  no 
excitement  on  the  mess  decks,  only  a  smile  since 
sea  means  a  period  of  peace  of  mind  when  parades 
and  polishings  are  suspended,  and  one  keeps  three 
watches  or  sleeps  in  a  turret  all  night  and  half 
the  day.  Besides  there  is  deep  down  in  the  minds 
of  all  the  hope  that,  in  spite  of  a  hundred  duds 
and  wash-outs  and  disappointments,  this  trip 
may  just  possibly  lead  to  that  glorious  scrap  that 
all  have  been  longing  for,  and  have  come  to  regard 
as  about  as  imminent  as  the  Day  of  Judgment. 
The  gunnery  staff  look  important  and  the  "  garage 
men" — armourers  and  electricians,  commonly 
called  L.T.O.s,  in  unspeakable  overalls  carry- 
ing spanners  and  circuit-testing  lamps — float 
round  the  turrets  looking  for  little  faults  and 
flies  in  the  amber.  The  bad  sailors  shiver,  though 
there  is  hope  even  for  them  in  the  silence  and 


84  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

calmness  of  the  sky.  There  is  no  obvious  bustle 
of  preparation,  for  the  best  of  reasons:  there 
is  nothing  to  do  except  to  close  sea  doors  and 
batten  down;  the  Fleet  is  Already  Prepared. 
Let  the  reader  please  brush  from  his  mind  any 
idea  of  excitement,  any  idea  of  unusualness,  any 
idea  of  bustle;  none  of  these  things  exist  when 
the  Grand  Fleet  puts  to  sea.  The  signal  which 
ran  up  to  the  yards  of  the  flagship  and  was  repeated 
by  all  the  vessels  in  the  Fleet  read:  "Prepare 
to  leave  harbour,"  and  simply  meant  that  the 
Fleet  was  going  out,  probably  that  night,  and 
that  no  officer  could  leave  his  ship  to  go  and  dine 
with  his  friends  in  some  other  ship's  wardroom. 

By  and  by  up  goes  another  little  hoist,  also 
universally  acknowledged;  this  makes  the  stokers 
and  the  engine  room  artificers,  and  the  purple- 
ringed,  harassed-looking  engineer  officers  jump 
lively  down  below  so  as  to  cut  the  time  notice 
for  full  steam  down  by  half  and  be  ready  to 
advance  the  required  speed  by  three  knots  or  so. 

The  sun  dips  and  evening  comes  on;  a  glorious 
evening  such  as  one  only  gets  fairly  far  north  in 
the  spring,  and  a  signal  comes  again,  this  time: 
"Raise  steam  for  —  knots  and  report."  Now 
one  sees  smoke  pouring  forth  continuously  from 
the  coal-driven  ships,  and  every  now  and  then 
a  great  gust  of  cold  oil  vapour  from  the  aristo- 
cratic new  battleships  whose  fires  are  fed  with 
oil  only. 

Dinner  in  the  wardroom  starts  in  a  blaze  of 
light  and  a  buzz  of  talking,  and  the  band  plays 
cheerfully  on  the  half-deck  outside.  The  King's 
health  is  drunk  and  the  band  settles  down  to  an 
hour  of  ragtime  and  waltzes,  the  older  men  sip 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  85 

their  port,  and  the  younger  ones  drift  out  to  where 
the  gun  room  is  already  dancing  lustily.  Our 
wonderful  Navy  dances  beautifully,  ard  loves 
every  evening  after  dinner  to  execute  the  most 
difficult  of  music-hall  steps  in  the  midst  of  a  wild 
Corybantic  orgie.  In  the  choosing  of  partners 
age  and  rank  count  for  nothing.  The  wardroom 
and  gun  room  after  dinner  are  members  of  one 
happy  family. 

Then  suddenly  the  scene  is  transformed.  In 
the  doorway  of  the  anteroom  and  dining-room 
appears  framed  the  tall  form  of  the  Owner,  who 
in  a  dozen  words  tells  that  the  Huns  are  out.  They 
are  in  full  force  strolling  merrily  along  a  westerly 
course  far  away  to  the  south.  Already  the  battle- 
cruisers  from  the  Forth  are  seeking  touch  with  the 
enemy,  and  the  light  stuff  and  the  advance  de- 
stroyers, the  screen  of  the  Grand  Fleet,  have 
already  flown  from  Scapa  to  make  contact  with 
the  battle  cruisers.  Our  armoured  cruisers  have 
moved  out  in  advance  and  the  Grand  Fleet  itself 
is  about  to  go. 

As  the  wardroom  gathers  round  the  Owner,  the 
band  packs  up  hastily  and  vanishes  down  the 
big  hatch  into  the  barracks  or  Marines'  mess  to 
stow  its  instruments  and  put  on  warm  clothing. 
Those  snotties  who  have  the  first  watch  scatter, 
and  the  remainder  gather  in  the  gun  room  to  turn 
over  the  chances  on  the  morrow  which  seems  to 
their  eager  souls  more  mist-shrouded  and  prom- 
ising than  have  most  morrows  during  the  long 
months  of  waiting. 


Let  us  now  shift  the  scene  to  the  compass  plat- 


86  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

form  or  Monkey's  Island  of  one  of  the  great  new 
oil-fired  battleships  of  the  Fifth  Battle  Squadron, 
one  of  the  five  ships  known  as  Queen  Elizabeths 
— all  added  to  the  Navy  since  the  war  began  and 
all  members  of  the  most  powerful  and  fastest 
squadron  of  battleships  upon  the  seas  of  the 
world.  They  have  a  speed  of  twenty-five  knots, 
carry  eight  15-inch  guns  in  four  turrets  arranged 
on  the  middle  line,  and  have  upon  each  side  a 
battery  of  six  6-inch  guns  in  casemates  for  dealing 
faithfully  and  expeditiously  with  enemy  destroyers 
who  may  seek  to  rush  in  with  the  torpedo.  As 
our  ship  passes  out  into  the  night,  the  port  and 
starboard  6-inch  batteries  are  fully  manned  and 
loaded,  and  up  on  the  compass  platform,  in  control 
of  these  batteries,  are  two  young  officers — a 
subaltern  of  Marines  and  a  naval  sub-lieutenant — 
to  each  of  whom  is  allotted  one  of  the  batteries. 
One  has  charge  of  the  port  side,  the  other  of  the 
starboard.  I  have  called  the  Navy  a  young 
man's  service,  and  here  we  see  a  practical  example; 
for  beneath  us  is  the  last  word  in  super-battleships 
dependent  for  protection  against  sudden  torpedo 
attack  upon  the  bright  eyes  and  cool  trained  brains 
of  two  youngsters  counting  not  more  than  forty 
years  between  them.  I  will  resume  my  descrip- 
tion and  put  it  in  the  mouth  of  one  of  these  youth- 
ful control  officers — the  Marine  subaltern  who  a 
year  before  had  been  a  boy  at  school : 

"Going  to  the  gun  room  I  warn  the  Sub,  my 
trusted  friend  and  fellow  control  officer  on  the 
starboard  side,  and  depart  to  my  cabin,  where 
I  dress  as  for  a  motor  run  on  a  cold  day.  I  have 
a  great  Canadian  fur  cap  and  gorgeous  gloves 
which  defeat  the  damp  and  cold  even  of  the 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  87 

North  Sea.  As  I  stand  on  the  quarter  deck  for 
a  moment's  glance  at  the  sunset,  which  I  cannot 
hope  to  describe,  there  comes  a  sound,  a  sort  of 
hollow  metallic  clap  and  a  flicker  of  flame.  They 
are  testing  electric  circuits  in  the  6-inch  battery, 
and  No.  5  gun  port  has  fired  a  tube.  These 
sounds  recur  at  short  intervals  from  both  sides 
for  a  couple  of  minutes.  Then  the  gun  layers 
are  satisfied  and  stop.  I  go  along  the  upper 
deck  above  the  battery — which  is  in  casemates 
between  decks — and  reach  the  pagoda,  and  then 
pass  up,  up,  through  a  little  steel  door,  above  the 
signal  bridge  and  the  searchlights  to  the  airy, 
roomy  Monkey's  Island  with  the  foremast  in  the 
middle  of  the  floor,  holding  the  spotting  top — 
usually  known  as  the  topping  spot,  an  inversion 
which  ironically  describes  its  exposed  position 
in  action — poised  above  our  heads.  There  is  a 
little  charthouse  forward  of  the  mast  on  its  raised 
dais  of  the  compass  platform  proper,  where  the 
High  Priest  busies  himself  between  his  two  altars, 
the  old  and  the  new. 


"Looking  ahead  it  is  already  dark.  The  sea 
is  still  and  the  ships  are  dim  black  masses.  We 
have  already  weighed — the  Cable  Officer's  call 
went  as  I  passed  along  the  upper  deck — and  are 
gliding  to  our  station  hi  the  Squadron,  all  of 
which  are  moving  away  past  those  ships  which 
have  not  yet  begun  to  go  out.  Gradually  we  leave 
the  rest  of  the  Grand  Fleet  behind,  for  our  great 
speed  gives  us  the  place  of  honour,  and  so  pass 
outside  and  breast  the  swell  of  the  open  sea. 

"We  find  that  the  wind  has  risen  outside  the 


88  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

harbour,  but  there  has  not  yet  been  time  for  a 
serious  swell  to  get  up.  The  water  heaves  slowly, 
breaking  into  a  sharp  clap  which  sets  our  attendant 
destroyers  dancing  like  corks,  but  of  which  we 
take  no  notice  whatever.  This  is  one  way  in  which 
the  big  ships  score,  though  they  miss  the  full 
joy  of  life  and  the  passion  for  war  which  can  be 
felt  only  in  a  destroyer  flotilla.  Our  destroyer 
escort  has  arisen  apparently  from  nowhere  and 
we  all  plough  on  together.  At  intervals  we  tack 
a  few  points  and  the  manoeuvre  is  passed  from 
ship  to  ship  with  flash  lamps.  Behind  us,  though 
we  cannot  see  them,  follows  the  rest  of  the  Grand 
Fleet,  in  squadrons  line  ahead,  trailing  out  up 
to,  and  beyond  the  horizon. 


"That  night  watch  on  my  first  big  'stunt' 
lives  in  my  memory.  Never  before  had  I  been 
by  myself  in  control  of  a  battery  of  six  6-inch  guns 
for  use  against  light  fast  enemy  craft,  which  might 
try  the  forlorn  hazard  of  a  dash  to  within  easy 
torpedo  range  of  about  500  yards.  Torpedoes  are 
useless  against  rapidly  moving  ships  unless  fired 
quite  close  up.  This  form  of  attack  has  been 
very  rare,  and  has  always  failed,  but  it  remains 
an  ever-present  possibility.  Even  in  clear  weather 
with  the  searchlights  on — which  are  connected 
up  to  me  and  move  with  me — one  cannot  see  for 
more  than  a  mile  at  night,  and  a  destroyer 
could  rush  in  at  full  speed  upon  a  zig-zag  track 
to  within  point  blank  range  in  about  a  minute. 
Direct-aimed  fire  would  fail  at  such  a  rapidly 
moving  mark.  One  has  to  put  up  a  curtain  of 
fire,  fast  and  furious  for  the  charging  vessel  to 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  89 

run  into.  But  there  is  no  time  to  lose,  no  time 
at  all. 

' '  There  was  a  bright  moon  upon  that  first  night, 
so  everything  was  less  unpleasant  and  nerve-rack- 
ing than  it  might  have  been.  Somehow  in  the 
Navy  one  seems  to  shed  all  feelings  of  nervous- 
ness. Perhaps  this  is  the  result  of  splendid  health, 
the  tonic  sea  air,  and  the  atmosphere  of  serene 
competent  resourcefulness  which  pervades  the 
whole  Service.  We  are  all  trained  to  think  only 
of  the  job  on  hand  and  never  of  ourselves. 

"From  the  height  of  the  compass  platform  there 
is  no  appearance  of  freeboard.  The  ship's  deck 
seems  to  lie  flush  with  the  water,  and  one  sees 
it  as  a  light-coloured  shaped  plank — such  as  one 
cut  out  of  wood  when  a  child  and  fitted  with  a 
toy  mast.  The  outline  is  not  regularly  curved 
but  sliced  away  at  the  forecastle  with  straight 
sides  running  back  parallel  with  one  another. 
'A'  turret  is  in  the  middle  of  the  forecastle,  which 
is  very  narrow;  and  behind  it  upon  a  higher  level 
stands  *B'  with  its  long  glistening  guns  sticking 
out  over  'AV  back.  From  aloft  the  turrets 
look  quite  small,  though  each  is  big  enough  for  a 
hundred  men  to  stand  comfortably  on  the  roof. 
The  slope  upwards  is  continued  by  the  great 
armoured  conning  tower  behind  and  higher  than 
'B'  turret,  and  directly  above  and  behind  that 
again  stands  the  compass  platform.  Overhead 
towers  the  draughty  spotting  top  for  the  turret 
guns.  Behind  again,  upon  the  same  level  as  my 
platform,  are  the  two  great  flat  funnels  spouting 
out  dense  clouds  of  oily  smoke.  When  there  is 
a  following  wind  the  spotting  top  is  smothered 
with  smoke,  and  the  officers  perched  there  cough 


90  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

and  gasp  and  curse.  It  is  then  worthy  of  its 
name,  for  it  is  in  truth  a  'topping  spot!' 

"We  are  a  very  fast  ship,  but  at  this  height  the 
impression  of  speed  is  lost.  The  ship  seems  to 
plough  in  leisurely  fashion  through  the  black 
white-crested  waves,  now  and  then  throwing  up 
a  cloud  of  spray  as  high  as  my  platform,  to  descend 
crashing  upon  'A'  turret,  which  is  none  too  dry 
a  place  to  sleep  in.  We  don't  roll  appreciably, 
but  slide  up  and  down  with  a  dignified  pitch, 
exactly  like  the  motion  of  that  patent  rocking- 
horse  which  I  used  to  love  in  my  old  nursery. 

"Down  below,  though  they  are  hidden  from 
me  by  the  deck,  the  gunners  stand  ready  behind 
their  casemates,  waiting  for  my  signal.  The  guns 
are  loaded  and  trained,  the  crews  stand  at  their 
stations,  shells  and  cordite  charges  are  ready  to 
their  hands.  The  gun-layers  are  connected  up 
with  me  and  are  ready  to  respond  instantly  to 
my  order. 

"So  the  watch  passes;  my  relief  comes,  and  I  go. 


"I  was  on  watch  again  in  the  forenoon,  and  then 
one  could  see  something  of  the  Grand  Fleet  and 
realise  its  tremendous  silent  power.  We  had 
shortened  speed  so  as  not  to  leave  the  supporting 
Squadrons  too  far  behind  and  one  could  see  them 
clearly,  long  lines  of  great  ships,  stretching  far 
beyond  the  visible  horizon.  Nearest  to  us  was 
the  cream  of  the  Fleet,  the  incomparable  Second 
Squadron — the  four  Orions  and  four  K.G.  Fives 
— which  with  their  eighty  13.5-inch  guns  possess 
a  concentrated  power  far  beyond  anything  flying 
Fritz's  flag.  Upon  us  of  the  Queen  Elizabeths, 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  91 

and  upon  the  Second  Battle  Squadron,  rests  the 
Mastery  of  the  Seas.  Far  away  on  the  port 
quarter  could  be  seen  the  leading  ships  of  the 
First  Battle  Squadron  of  Dreadnoughts,  all  ships 
of  12-inch  guns,  all  good  enough  for  Fritz  but 
not  in  the  same  class  with  the  Orions,  the  K.G. 
Fives  or  with  us.  Away  to  starboard  came 
more  Dreadnoughts,  and  Royal  Sovereigns — as 
powerful  as  ourselves  but  not  so  fast — and  odd 
ships  like  the  seven-turreted  Agincourt  and  the 
14-inch  gunned  Canada.  It  was  a  great  sight, 
one  to  impress  Fritz  and  to  make  his  blood  turn 
to  water. 

"For  he  could  see  us  as  we  thrashed  through 
the  seas.  It  looked  no  larger  than  a  breakfast 
sausage,  and  I  had  some  difficulty  in  making 
it  out — even  after  the  Officer  of  the  Watch  had 
shown  it  to  me.  But  at  last  I  saw  the  watching 
Zeppelin — a  mere  speck  thousands  of  feet  up  and 
perhaps  fifty  miles  distant.  Our  seaplanes  roared 
away,  rising  one  after  the  other  from  our  carry- 
ing-ships like  huge  seagulls,  and  Herr  Zeppelin 
melted  into  the  far-off  background  of  clouds.  He 
had  seen  us,  and  that  was  enough  to  keep  the 
Germans  at  a  very  safe  distance.  He,  or  others 
like  him,  had  seen,  too,  our  battle  cruisers  which, 
sweeping  far  down  to  the  south,  essayed  to  play 
the  hammer  to  our  most  massive  anvil.  In  the 
evening,  precisely  at  ten  o'clock,  the  German 
Nordeich  wireless  sent  out  a  volley  of  heavy  chaff, 
assuring  us  that  we  had  only  dared  to  come  out 
when  satisfied  that  their  High  Seas  Fleet  was  in 
the  Baltic.  It  wasn't  in  the  Baltic;  at  that  mo- 
ment it  was  scuttling  back  to  the  minefields 
behind  Heligoland.  But  what  could  we  do? 


92  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

When  surprise  is  no  longer  possible  at  sea,  what 
can  one  do?  It  is  all  very  exasperating,  but 
somehow  rather  amusing. 

"We  joined  the  Battle  Cruiser  Squadron  in  the 
south  and  swept  the  'German  Ocean'  right  up 
to  the  minefields  off  the  Elbe  and  Weser,  and  north 
to  the  opening  of  the  Skaggerak.  Further  we 
could  not  go,  for  any  foolish  attempt  to  'dig  out' 
Fritz  might  have  cost  us  half  the  Grand  Fleet. 
Then  our  'stunt'  ended,  we  turned  and  sought 
once  more  our  northern  fastnesses." 


It  was  during  the  return  from  this  big  sweep 
of  the  North  Sea  that  our  young  Marine  chanced 
upon  his  baptism  of  fire  and  his  first  Great  Adven- 
ture. His  chance  came  suddenly  and  unexpectedly 
— as  chances  usually  come  at  sea — and  I  will  let 
him  tell  of  it  himself  in  that  personal  vivid  style 
of  his  with  which  I  cannot  compete. 

"The  wonderful  thing  has  happened!  I  have 
been  in  action!  It  was  not  a  great  battle;  it 
was  not  what  the  hardiest  evening  newspaper 
could  blaze  upon  its  bills  as  a  Naval  Action  in 
the  North  Sea.  From  first  to  last  it  endured  for 
one  minute  and  forty  seconds;  yet  for  me  it  was 
the  Battle  of  the  Century.  For  it  was  my  own, 
my  very  own,  my  precious  ewe  lamb  of  a  battle. 
It  was  fought  by  me  on  my  compass  platform 
and  by  my  bold  gunners  in  the  6-inch  casemates 
below.  All  by  our  little  selves  we  did  the  trick, 
before  any  horrid  potentates  could  interfere,  and 
the  enemy  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  deep  blue  sea — 
it  is  not  really  very  deep  and  certainly  is  not  blue. 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  93 

What  I  most  love  about  my  battle  is  that  it  was 
fought  so  quickly  that  no  one — and  especially 
none  of  those  tiresome  folks  called  superior  officers 
— had  any  opportunity  of  kicking  me  off  the  stage. 
All  was  over,  quite  over,  and  my  guns  had  ceased 
firing  before  the  Owner  had  tumbled  out  of  his 
sea  cabin  in  the  pagoda,  and  best  of  all  before 
my  gunnery  chief  had  any  chance  to  snatch  the 
control  away  from  me.  He  came  charging  up, 
red  and  panting,  while  the  air  still  thudded  with 
my  curtain  fire,  and  wanted  to  know  what  the 
devil  I  was  playing  at.  'I  have  sunk  the  enemy, 
sir,'  I  said,  saluting.  'What  enemy?'  cried  he, 
'I  never  saw  any  enemy.'  'He's  gone,  sir,'  said 
I  standing  at  attention.  'I  hit  him  with  three 
6-inch  shells  and  he  is  very  dead  indeed.'  'It's 
all  right,'  called  out  the  Officer  of  the  Watch, 
laughing.  'This  young  Soldier  here  has  been 
and  gone  and  sunk  one  of  Fritz's  destroyers. 
He  burst  her  all  to  pieces  in  a  manner  most  em- 
phatic. I  call  it  unkind.  But  he  always  was 
a  heartless  young  beast.'  Then  the  Bloke,  who 
is  a  very  decent  old  fellow,  cooled  down,  said 
I  was  a  lucky  young  dog,  and  received  my  official 
report.  He  carried  it  off  to  the  Lord  High  Captain 
— whom  the  Navy  people  call  the  Owner — and 
the  great  man  was  so  very  kind  as  to  speak  to  me 
himself.  He  said  that  I  had  done  very  well  and 
that  he  would  make  a  note  of  my  prompt  attention 
to  duty.  I  don't  suppose  that  I  shall  ever  again 
fight  so  completely  satisfying  a  naval  battle,  for 
I  am  not  likely  to  come  across  another  one  small 
enough  to  keep  wholly  to  myself. 

"I  will  tell  you  all  about  it.    I  was  up  on  my 
platform  at  my  watch.     My  battery  of  6-inch  guns 


94  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

was  down  below,  all  loaded  with  high  explosive 
shell,  weighing  100  Ibs.  each.  All  the  gunners 
were  ready  for  anything  which  might  happen, 
but  expecting  nothing.  So  they  had  stood  and 
waited  during  a  hundred  watches.  It  was  greying 
towards  dawn,  but  there  was  a  good  bit  of  haze 
and  the  sea  was  choppy.  The  old  ship  was  doing 
her  rocking-horse  trick  as  usual,  and  also  as  usual 
I  was  feeling  a  bit  squeamish  but  nothing  to  worry 
about.  As  the  light  increased  I  could  see  about 
2,000  yards,  more  or  less — I  am  not  much  good 
yet  at  judging  sea  distances;  they  look  so  short. 
The  Officer  of  the  Watch  was  walking  up  and 
down  on  the  look-out.  'Hullo/  I  heard  him  say, 
'what's  that  dark  patch  yonder  three  points  on 
the  port  bow?'  This  meant  thirty  degrees  to 
the  left.  I  looked  through  my  glasses  and  so  did 
he,  and  as  I  could  see  nothing  I  switched  on  the 
big  searchlight.  Then  there  came  a  call  from 
the  Look  Out  near  us,  the  dark  patch  changed  to 
thick  smoke,  and  out  of  the  haze  into  the  blaze 
of  my  searchlight  slid  the  high  forepeak  of  a 
destroyer.  I  thought  it  was  one  of  our  escort, 
and  so  did  the  Officer  of  the  Watch;  but  as  we 
watched  the  destroyer  swung  round,  and  we  could 
see  the  whole  length  of  her.  I  can't  explain  how 
one  can  instantly  distinguish  enemy  ships  from 
one's  own,  and  can  even  class  them  and  name 
them  at  sight.  One  knows  them  by  the  lines  and 
silhouette  just  as  one  knows  a  Ford  car  from  a 
Rolls-Royce.  The  destroyer  was  an  enemy,  plain 
even  to  me.  She  had  blundered  into  us  by  mistake 
and  was  now  trying  hard  to  get  away.  I  don't 
know  what  the  Officer  of  the  Watch  did — I  never 
gave  him  a  thought — my  mind  simply  froze  on 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  95 

to  that  beautiful  battery  of  6-inch  guns  down 
below  and  on  to  that  enemy  destroyer  trying  to 
escape.  Those  two  things,  the  battery  and  the 
enemy,  filled  my  whole  world. 

"Within  five  seconds  I  had  called  the  battery, 
given  them  a  range  of  2,000  yards,  swung  the  guns 
on  to  the  enemy  and  loosed  three  shells — the  first 
shells  which  I  had  seen  fired  in  any  action.  They 
all  went  over  for  I  had  not  allowed  for  our  height 
above  the  water.  Then  the  Boche  did  an  extraor- 
dinary thing.  If  he  had  gone  on  swinging  round 
and  dashed  away,  he  might  have  reached  cover 
in  the  haze  before  I  could  hit  him.  But  his  Officer 
of  the  Watch  was  either  frightened  out  of  his 
wits  or  else  was  a  bloomhV  copper-bottomed 
7ero.  Instead  of  trying  to  get  away,  he  swung 
back  towards  us,  rang  up  full  speed,  and  came 
charging  in  upon  us  so  as  to  get  home  with  a 
torpedo.  It  was  either  the  maddest  or  the  bravest 
thing  which  I  shall  ever  see  in  my  life.  I  ought 
to  have  been  frightfully  thrilled,  but  somehow 
I  wasn't.  I  felt  no  excitement  whatever;  you 
see,  I  was  thinking  all  the  time  of  directing  my 
guns  and  had  no  consciousness  of  anything  else 
in  the  world.  The  moment  the  destroyer  charged, 
zig-zagging  to  distract  our  aim,  I  knew  exactly 
what  to  do  with  him.  I  instantly  shortened  the 
range  by  400  yards,  and  gave  my  gunners  rapid 
independent  fire  from  the  whole  battery.  The  idea 
was  to  put  up  a  curtain  of  continuous  fire  about 
200  yards  short  for  him  to  run  into,  and  to 
draw  in  the  curtain  as  he  came  nearer.  As 
he  zig-zagged,  so  we  followed,  keeping  up  that 
wide  deadly  curtain  slap  in  his  path.  There  was 
no  slouching  about  those  beautiful  long-service 


96  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

gun-layers  of  ours,  and  you  should  have  seen  the 
darlings  pump  it  out.  I  have  seen  fast  firing  in 
practice  but  never  anything  like  that.  There 
was  one  continuous  stream  of  shell  as  the  six  guns 
took  up  the  order.  Six-inch  guns  are  no  toys, 
and  100-lb.  shells  are  a  bit  hefty  to  handle,  yet 
no  quick-firing  cartridge  loaders  could  have  been 
worked  faster  than  were  my  heavy  beauties.  Every 
ten  seconds  my  battery  spat  out  six  great  shells, 
and  I  steadily  drew  the  curtain  in,  keeping  it 
always  dead  in  his  path,  but  by  some  miracle  of 
light  or  of  manoeuvring  the  enemy  escaped  destruc- 
tion for  a  whole  long  minute.  On  came  the 
destroyer  and  round  came  our  ship  facing  her. 
The  Officer  of  the  Watch  was  swinging  our  bows 
towards  the  enemy  so  as  to  lessen  the  mark  for 
his  torpedo,  and  I  swung  my  guns  the  opposite 
way  as  the  ship  turned,  keeping  them  always  on 
the  charging  destroyer.  Away  towards  the  enemy 
the  sea  boiled  as  the  torrent  of  shells  hit  it  and 
ricochetted  for  miles. 

"At  last  the  end  came!  It  seemed  to  have 
been  hours  since  I  began  to  fire,  but  it  couldn't 
really  have  been  more  than  a  minute;  for  even 
German  destroyers  will  cover  half  a  mile  in  that 
time.  The  range  was  down  to  1,000  yards  when 
he  loosed  a  torpedo,  and  at  that  very  precise 
instant  a  shell,  ricochetting  upwards,  caught  him 
close  to  the  water  line  of  his  high  forepeak  and 
burst  in  his  vitals.  I  saw  instantly  a  great  flash 
blaze  up  from  his  funnels  as  the  high  explosive 
smashed  his  engines,  boilers  and  fires  into  scrap. 
He  reared  up  and  screamed  exactly  like  a  wounded 
horse.  It  sounded  rather  awful,  though  it  was 
only  the  shriek  of  steam  from  the  burst  pipes;  it 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  97 

made  one  feel  how  very  live  a  thing  is  a  ship,  how 
in  its  splendid  vitality  it  is,  as  Kipling  says,  more 
than  the  crew.  He  reared  up  and  fell  away  to 
port,  and  two  more  of  my  shells  hit  him  almost 
amidships  and  tore  out  his  bottom  plates  like 
shredded  paper.  I  could  hear  the  rending  crash 
of  the  explosions  through  my  ear-protectors,  and 
through  the  continuous  roar  of  my  own  curtain 
fire.  He  rolled  right  over  and  was  gone!  He 
vanished  so  quickly  that  for  a  moment  my  shells 
flew  screaming  over  the  empty  sea,  and  then  I 
stopped  the  gunners.  My  battle  had  lasted  for 
one  minute  and  forty  seconds! 

"'But  what  about  the  torpedo?'  you  will  ask. 
I  never  saw  it,  but  the  Officer  of  the  Watch  told  me 
that  it  had  passed  harmlessly  more  than  a  hundred 
feet  away  from  us.  'You  sank  the  destroyer/ 
said  the  Officer  of  the  Watch,  grinning,  'but  my 
masterly  navigation  saved  the  ship.  So  honours  is 
easy,  Mr.  Marine.  If  I  had  had  those  guns  of 
yours,'  he  went  on,  'I  would  have  sunk  the  beggar 
with  about  half  that  noise  and  half  that  expenditure 
of  Government  ammunition.  I  never  saw  such 
a  wasteful  performance,'  said  he.  But  he  was  only 
pulling  my  leg.  All  the  senior  officers,  from  the 
Owner  downwards,  were  very  nice  to  me  and  said 
that  for  a  youngster,  and  a  Soldier  at  that,  I  hadn't 
managed  the  affair  at  all  badly. 

"I  thought  that  the  guns'  crews  had  done  fine 
and  told  them  so;  but  the  chief  gunner — a  stern 
Marine  from  Eastney — shook  his  head  sadly. 
No.  3  gun  had  been  trained  five  seconds  late,  he 
said,  and  was  behind  the  others  all  through.  He 
seemed  to  reckon  the  sinking  of  the  destroyer  as 
nothing  in  condonation  of  the  shame  No.  3  had 


98  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

brought  upon  his  battery.     I  condoled  with  him, 
but  he  was  wounded  to  the  heart. 


"The  officer  of  the  Watch  said  that  all  the  time 
the  destroyer  was  charging  she  was  firing  small 
stuff  at  our  platform  with  a  Q.-F.  gun  on  her 
forepeak.  And  I  knew  nothing  about  it!  This  is 
the  simple  and  easy  way  in  which  one  earns  a 
reputation  for  coolness  under  heavy  fire." 


CHAPTER  V 

WITH  THE  GEAND  FLEET!  THE  TERRIERS 
AND  THE  RATS 

"You  missed  a  lot,  Soldier,"  said  the  Sub-Lieu- 
tenant to  his  friend  the  Marine  Subaltern,  "through 
not  being  here  at  the  beginning.  Now  it  is  alto- 
gether too  comfortable  for  us  of  the  big  ships; 
the  destroyers  and  patrols  get  all  the  fun  while 
we  hang  about  here  hi  harbour  or  put  up  a  stately 
and  entirely  innocuous  parade  of  the  North  Sea. 
No  doubt  we  are  Grand  in  our  Silent  Might  and 
Keep  our  Unsleeping  Vigil  and  all  the  rest  of  the 
pretty  tosh  which  one  reads  in  the  papers — but 
in  reality  we  eat  too  much  for  the  good  of  our 
waists  and  do  too  little  work  for  our  princely  pay. 
But  it  was  very  different  at  the  beginning.  Then 
we  were  like  a  herd  of  wild  buffaloes  harassed 
day  and  night  by  super-mosquitoes.  When  we 
were  not  on  watch  we  were  saying  our  prayers. 
It  was  a  devil  of  a  tune,  my  son." 

"I  thought  that  you  Commanded  the  Seas," 
observed  the  marine,  an  innocent  youth  who  had 
lately  joined. 

The  Sub-Lieutenant,  dark  and  short,  with  twenty 
years  to  his  age  and  the  salt  wisdom  of  five  naval 
generations  in  his  rich  red  blood,  grinned  capa- 
ciously, "So  the  dear  simple  old  British  Public 

99 


100  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

thought.  So  their  papers  told  them  every  day. 
We  did  not  often  get  a  sight  of  newspapers- 
there  were  no  regular  mails,  as  now,  and  none  of 
the  comforts  of  an  ordered  civilised  life,  as  some  ass 
wrote  the  other  day  of  the  Grand  Fleet.  What 
the  deuce  have  we  to  do  with  an  ordered  civilised 
life!  Fighting's  our  job,  and  that's  what  we 
want,  not  beastly  comforts.  While  we  were  being 
chivied  about  by  Fritz's  submarines  it  was  jolly 
to  be  told  that  we  Commanded  the  Seas  of  the 
World.  But  to  me  it  sounded  a  bit  sarcastic  at 
a  time  when  we  had  not  got  the  length  of  com- 
manding even  the  entrances  to  our  own  harbours. 
That's  the  cold  truth.  For  six  months  we  hadn't 
a  submarine  proof  harbour  in  England  or  Scotland 
or  Ireland  though  we  looked  for  one  pretty  dili- 
gently. We  wandered  about,  east  and  west  and 
north,  looking  for  some  hole  where  the  submarines 
couldn't  get  in  without  first  knocking  at  the 
door,  and  where  we  could  lie  in  peace  for  two 
days  together.  WTierever  we  went  it  was  the  same 
old  programme.  The  Zepps  would  smell  us  out 
and  Fritz  would  come  nosing  around  with  his 
submarines,  and  we  had  to  up  anchor  and  be  off 
on  our  travels  once  more.  At  sea  we  were  all 
right.  We  cruised  always  at  speed,  with  a  destroyer 
patrol  out  on  either  side,  so  that  Fritz  had  no 
chance  to  get  near  enough  to  try  a  shot  with  the 
torpedo.  A  fast  moving  ship  can't  be  hit  except 
broadside  on  and  within  a  range  of  about  400 
yards;  and  as  we  always  moved  twice  as  fast 
as  a  submerged  U  boat  he  never  could  get  within 
sure  range.  He  tried  once  or  twice  till  the  de- 
stroyers and  light  cruisers  began  to  get  him  with 
the  ram  and  the  gun.  Fritz  must  have  had  a 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  101 

good  many  thrilling  minutes  when  he  was  fiddling 
with  his  rudder,  his  diving  planes  and  his  torpedo 
discharge  gear  and  saw  a  destroyer  foaming  down 
upon  him  at  over  thirty  knots.  Fritz  died  a  clean 
death  in  those  days.  I  would  fifty  times  sooner 
go  under  to  the  ram  or  the  gun  than  be  caught 
like  a  rat  in  some  of  the  dainty  traps  we've  been 
setting  for  a  year  past.  We  are  top  dog  now,  but 
I  blush  to  think  of  those  first  few  months.  It 
was  a  most  humiliating  spectacle.  Fancy  fifty 
million  pounds  worth  of  the  greatest  fighting  ships 
in  the  world  scuttling  about  in  fear  of  a  dozen 
or  two  of  footy  little  submarines  any  one  of  which 
we  could  have  run  up  on  the  main  derrick  as 
easily  as  a  picket  boat.  If  I,  a  mere  snotty  in 
the  old  Olympus,  felt  sore  in  my  bones  what  must 
the  Owners  and  the  Admirals  have  felt?  Answer 
me  that,  Pongo?" 

"It's  all  right  now,  I  suppose,"  said  the  Pongo. 

"Safe  and  dull,"  replied  he,  "powerful  dull. 
No  chance  of  a  battle,  and  no  feeling  that  any  day 
a  mouldy  hi  one's  ribs  is  more  likely  than  not. 
If  Fritz  had  had  as  much  skill  as  he  had  pluck  he 
would  have  blown  up  half  the  Grand  Fleet.  Why 
he  didn't  I  can't  imagine,  except  that  it  takes  a 
hundred  years  to  make  a  sailor.  Our  submarine 
officers,  with  such  a  target,  would  have  downed  a 
battleship  a  week  easy." 

"Fritz  got  the  three  Cressys." 

"He  simply  couldn't  help,"  sniffed  the  Sub- 
Lieutenant.  "They  asked  for  trouble;  one  after 
the  other.  Fritz  struck  a  soft  patch  that  morning 
which  he  is  never  likely  to  find  again." 

"Had  the  harbours  no  booms?" 

"Never  a  one.    We  had  built  the  ships  all  right, 


102  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

but  we  had  forgotten  the  harbours.  There  wasn't 
one,  I  say,  in  the  east  or  north  or  west  which  Fritz 
could  not  enter  whenever  he  chose  to  take  the 
risk.  He  could  come  in  submerged,  a  hundred 
feet  down,  diving  under  the  line  of  patrols,  but 
luckily  for  us  he  couldn't  do  much  after  he  arrived 
except  keep  us  busy.  *  For  as  sure  as  ever  he  stuck 
up  a  periscope  to  take  a  sight  we  were  on  to  him 
within  five  seconds  with  the  small  stuff,  and  then 
there  was  a  chase  which  did  one's  heart  good. 
I've  seen  a  dozen,  all  much  alike,  though  one  had 
a  queer  ending  which  I  will  tell  you.  It  explains 
a  lot,  too.  It  shows  exactly  why  Fritz  fails  when 
he  has  to  depend  upon  individual  nerve  and 
judgment.  He  is  deadly  in  a  crowd,  but  pretty 
feeble  when  left  to  himself.  We  used  to  think 
that  the  Germans  were  a  stolid  race  but  they 
aren't.  They  have  nerves  like  red-hot  wires.  I 
have  seen  a  crew  come  up  out  of  a  captured  sub- 
marine, trembling  and  shivering  and  crying.  I 
suppose  that  frightfulness  gets  over  them  like 
drink  or  drugs  or  assorted  debauchery.  Now  for 
my  story.  One  evening  towards  sunset  hi  the 
first  winter — which  means  six  bells  (about  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon)  up  here — a  German 
submarine  crept  into  this  very  harbour  and  the 
first  we  knew  of  it  was  a  bit  alarming.  The  com- 
mander was  a  good  man,  and  if  he  had  only  kept 
his  head,  after  working  his  way  in  submerged,  he 
might  have  got  one,  if  not  two,  big  ships.  But 
instead  of  creeping  up  close  to  the  battleships, 
where  they  lay  anchored  near  the  shore,  he  stuck 
up  a  periscope  a  1,000  yards  away  and  blazed  a 
torpedo  into  the  brown  of  them.  It  was  a  forlorn, 
silly  shot.  They  were  end  on  to  him,  and  the 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  103 

torpedo  just  ran  between  two  of  them  and  smashed 
up  against  the  steep  shore  behind.  The  track  of 
it  on  the  sea  was  wide  and  white  as  a  high  road, 
and  half  a  dozen  destroyers  were  on  to  that  sub- 
marine even  before  the  shot  had  exploded  against 
the  rocks.  Fritz  got  down  safely — he  was  clever, 
but  too  darned  nervous  for  under-water  work — 
and  then  began  a  hunt  which  was  exactly  like  one 
has  seen  in  a  barn  when  terriers  are  after  rats. 
The  destroyers  and  motor  patrols  were  every- 
where, and  above  them  flew  the  seaplanes  with 
observers  who  could  peer  down  through  a  hundred 
feet  of  water.  In  a  shallow  harbour  Fritz  could 
have  sunk  to  the  bottom  and  lain  there  till  after 
dark,  but  we  have  200  fathoms  here  with  a  very 
steep  shore  and  there  was  no  bottom  for  him.  A 
submarine  can't  stand  the  water  pressure  of  more 
than  200  feet  at  the  outside.  He  didn't  dare  to 
fill  his  tanks  and  sink,  and  could  only  keep  down 
in  diving  trim  so  long  as  he  kept  moving  with  his 
electric  motors  and  held  himself  submerged  with 
his  horizontal  planes.  Had  the  motors  stopped, 
the  submarine  would  have  come  up,  for  in  diving 
trim  it  was  slightly  lighter  than  the  water  dis- 
placed. All  we  had  to  do  was  to  keep  on  hunting 
till  his  electric  batteries  had  run  down,  and  then 
he  would  be  obliged  to  come  up.  Do  you  twig, 
Pongo?" 

"But  he  could  have  sunk  to  the  bottom  if  he 
had  chosen?  " 

"Oh,  yes.  But  then  he  could  never  have  risen 
again.  To  have  filled  his  tanks  would  have  meant 
almost  instant  death.  At  200  fathoms  his  plates 
would  have  crumpled  like  paper." 

"Still  I  think  that  I  should  have  done  it." 


104  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

"So  should  I.  But  Fritz  didn't.  He  roamed 
about  the  harbour,  blind,  keeping  as  deep  down 
as  he  could  safely  go.  Above  him  scoured  the 
patrol  boats  and  destroyers,  and  above  them 
again  flew  the  seaplanes.  Now  and  then  the  air 
observers  would  get  a  sight  of  him  and  once  or 
twice  they  dropped  bombs,  but  this  was  soon 
stopped  as  the  risk  to  our  own  boats  was  too 
great.  Regarded  as  artillery  practice  bomb  drop- 
ping from  aeroplanes  is  simply  rotten.  One  can't 
possibly  aim  from  a  thing  moving  at  fifty  miles 
an  hour.  If  one  may  believe  the  look  outs  of 
the  destroyers  the  whole  harbour  crawled  with 
periscopes,  but  they  were  really  bully  beef  cans 
and  other  rubbish  chucked  over  from  the  warships. 
When  last  seen,  or  believed  to  be  seen,  Fritz  was 
blundering  towards  the  line  of  battleships  lying 
under  the  deep  gloom  of  the  shore,  and  then  he 
vanished  altogether.  Night  came  on,  the  very 
long  Northern  night  in  winter,  and  it  seemed  extra 
specially  long  to  us  in  the  big  ships.  Searchlights 
were  going  all  through  the  dark  hours,  the  water 
gleamed,  all  the  floating  rubbish  which  accumu- 
lates so  fast  hi  harbour  stood  out  dead  black 
against  the  silvery  surface,  and  the  Officers  of 
the  Watch  detected  more  periscopes  than  Fritz 
had  in  his  whole  service.  The  hunt  went  on  with- 
out ceasing  for,  at  any  moment,  Fritz's  batteries 
might  peter  out,  and  he  come  up.  It  was  a  bit 
squirmy  to  feel  that  here  cooped  up  in  a  narrow 
deep  sea  lock  were  over  a  hundred  King's  ships, 
and  that  somewhere  below  us  was  a  desperate 
German  submarine  which  couldn't  possibly  escape, 
but  which  might  blow  some  of  us  to  blazes  any 
minute." 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  105 

"Did  any  of  you  go  to  sleep?"  asked  the  Pongo 
foolishly. 

The  Sub-Lieutenant  stared.  "When  it  wasn't 
my  watch  I  turned  in  as  usual,"  he  replied.  "Why 
not? 

"In  the  morning  there  was  no  sign  of  Fritz,  so 
we  concluded  that  he  had  either  sunk  himself  to 
the  bottom  or  had  somehow  managed  to  get  out 
of  the  harbour.  In  either  case  we  should  not  see 
him  more.  So  we  just  forgot  him  as  we  had  for- 
gotten others  who  had  been  chased  and  had  escaped. 
But  he  turned  up  again  after  all.  For  twenty- 
four  hours  nothing  much  happened  except  the 
regular  routine,  though  after  the  scare  we  were 
all  very  wide  awake  for  more  U  boats,  and  then 
we  had  orders  to  proceed  to  sea.  I  was  senior 
snotty  of  the  Olympus,  and  I  was  on  the  after 
look-out  platform  as  the  ship  cast  loose  from  her 
moorings  and  moved  away,  to  take  her  place  in 
the  line.  As  we  got  going  there  was  a  curious 
grating  noise  all  along  the  bottom  just  as  if  we 
had  been  lightly  aground;  everyone  was  puzzled 
to  account  for  it  as  there  were  heaps  of  water  under 
us.  The  grating  went  on  till  we  were  clear  of  our 
berth,  and  then  in  the  midst  of  the  wide  foaming 
wake  rolled  up  the  long  thin  hull  of  a  submarine. 
A  destroyer  dashed  up,  and  the  forward  gun  was 
in  the  act  of  firing  when  a  loud  voice  from  her 
bridge  called  on  the  gunners  to  stop.  'Don't 
fire  on  a  coffin/  roared  her  commander.  It  was 
the  German  submarine,  which  after  some  thirty 
hours  under  water  had  become  a  dead  hulk.  All 
the  air  had  long  since  been  used  up  and  the  crew 
were  lying  at  their  posts — cold  meat,  poor  devils. 
A  beastly  way  to  die." 


106  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

"Beastly,"  murmured  the  Marine.  "War  is  a 
foul  game." 

"Still,"  went  on  the  Sub-Lieutenant,  cheerfully, 
"a  dead  Fritz  is  always  much  more  wholesome 
than  a  live  one,  and  here  were  a  score  of  him  safely 
dead." 

"But  what  had  happened  to  the  submarine?" 
asked  the  Marine,  not  being  a  sailor. 

"Don't  you  see?"  explained  the  Sub-Lieutenant, 
who  had  held  his  story  to  be  artistically  finished, 
"What  a  Pongo  it  is!  Fritz  had  wandered  about 
blind,  deep  down  under  water,  until  his  batteries 
had  given  out.  Then  the  submarine  rose,  fouled 
our  bottom  by  the  merest  accident,  and  stuck 
there  jammed  against  our  bilge  keels  till  the 
movement  of  the  ship  had  thrown  it  clear.  It 
swung  to  the  tide  with  us.  The  chances  against 
the  submarine  rising  under  one  of  the  battleships 
were  thousands  to  one,  but  chances  like  that  have 
a  way  of  coming  off  at  sea.  Nothing  at  sea  ever 
causes  surprise,  my  son." 

The  Sub-Lieutenant  spoke  with  the  assurance 
of  a  grey-haired  Admiral;  he  was  barely  twenty 
years  old,  but  he  was  wise  with  the  profound  salt 
wisdom  of  the  sea  and  will  never  get  any  older  or 
less  wise  though  he  lives  to  be  ninety. 


Though  our  friend  the  young  Lieutenant  of 
Marines  was  no  sailor  he  was  a  scholar,  trained  in 
the  class-rooms  and  playing  fields,  of  a  great 
English  school.  He  was  profoundly  impressed, 
as  all  outsiders  must  be,  by  the  engrained  efficiency 
of  the  seafolk  among  whom  he  now  dwelt,  their 
easy  mastery  of  the  technicalities  of  sea  craft,  and 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  107 

their  almost  childish  ignorance  of  everything  that 
lay  outside  it.  It  was  borne  in  upon  him  that 
they  were  a  race  apart,  bred  to  their  special  work 
as  terriers  and  racehorses  arc  bred,  the  perfect  prod- 
uct of  numberless  generations  of  sea  fighters.  It 
was  borne  in  upon  him,  too,  that  no  nation  coming 
late  to  the  sea,  like  the  Germans,  could,  though 
taking  an  infinity  of  thought,  possibly  stand  up 
against  us.  Sea  power  does  not  consist  of  ships 
but  of  men.  For  a  real  Navy  does  not  so  much 
design  and  build  ships  as  secrete  them.  They 
are  the  expression  in  machinery  of  its  brains  and 
Soul.  He  arrived  at  this  conclusion  after  much 
patient  thought  and  then  diffidently  laid  it  before 
his  experienced  friend.  The  Sub-Lieutenant  ac- 
cepted the  theory  at  once  as  beyond  argument. 

"That's  the  whole  secret,  my  son,  the  secret  of 
the  Navy.  Fritz  can't  design  ships;  he  can 
only  copy  ours,  and  then  he  can't  make  much  of 
his  copies.  Take  his  submarine  work.  He  has 
any  amount  of  pluck,  though  he  is  a  dirty  swine; 
he  doesn't  fail  for  want  of  pluck  but  because  he 
hasn't  the  right  kind  of  nerve.  That  is  where 
Fritz  fails  and  where  our  boys  succeed,  because 
they  were  bred  to  the  sea  and  their  fathers  before 
them,  and  their  fathers  before  that.  Submarining 
as  a  sport  is  exactly  like  stalking  elephants  on 
foot  in  long  grass.  One  has  to  wriggle  on  one's 
belly  till  one  gets  within  close  range,  and  then 
make  sure  of  a  kill  in  one  shot.  There's  no  time 
for  a  second  if  one  misses.  Fritz  will  get  fairly 
close  up,  sometimes — or  did  before  we  had  taken 
his  measure — but  not  that  close  enough  to  make 
dead  sure  of  a  hit.  He  is  too  much  afraid  of  being 
seen  when  he  pops  his  periscope  above  water.  So 


108  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

he  comes  down  between  two  stools.  He  is  too 
far  off  for  a  certain  hit  and  not  far  enough  to  escape 
being  seen.  That  story  I  told  you  the  other  day 
was  an  exact  illustration.  The  moment  he  pops 
up  the  destroyers  swoop  down  upon  him,  he 
flinches,  looses  off  a  mouldy,  somehow,  anyhow, 
and  then  gets  down.  That  sort  of  thing  is  no 
bally  use;  one  doesn't  sink  battleships  that  fool 
way.  Our  men  first  make  sure  of  their  hit  at  the 
closest  range,  and  then  think  about  getting  down 
— or  don't  get  down.  They  do  their  work  with- 
out worrying  about  being  sunk  themselves  the 
instant  after.  That's  just  the  difference  between 
us  and  the  Germans,  between  terriers  and  rats. 
It's  no  good  taking  partial  risks  in  submarine  work; 
one  must  go  the  whole  hog  or  leave  it  alone. 

"Risks  are  queer  things,"  went  on  the  Sub- 
Lieutenant,  reflectively.  "The  bigger  they  are,  the 
less  one  gets  hurt.  Just  look  at  the  seaplanes. 
One  would  think  that  the  ordinary  dangers  of 
flight  were  bad  enough — the  failure  of  a  stay,  the 
misfiring  of  an  engine,  a  bad  gusty  wind — and  so 
we  thought  before  the  war.  It  looked  the  forlornest 
of  hopes  to  rush  upon  an  enemy  plane,  shoot  him 
down  at  the  shortest  of  range,  or  ram  him  if  one 
couldn't  get  a  kill  any  other  way.  It  seemed  that 
if  two  planes  stood  up  to  one  another,  both  must 
certainly  be  lost.  And  so  they  would.  Yet  time 
and  again  our  Flight  officers  have  charged  the 
German  planes,  seen  them  run  away  or  drop  into 
the  sea,  and  come  off  themselves  with  no  more 
damage  than  a  hole  or  two  through  the  wings. 
It's  just  nerve,  nerve  and  breeding.  When  we 
dash  in  upon  Fritz  with  submarine  or  seaplanes, 
taking  no  count  of  the  risks,  but  seeking  only  to 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  109 

kill,  he  almost  always  either  blunders  or  runs. 
It  isn't  that  he  lacks  pluck — don't  believe  that 
silly  libel;  Fritz  is  as  brave  as  men  are  made — 
but  he  hasn't  the  sporting  nerve.  He  will  take 
risks  in  the  mass,  but  he  doesn't  like  them  single; 
we  do.  He  doesn't  love  big  game  shooting,  on 
foot,  alone;  we  do.  He  does  his  best;  he  obeys 
orders  up  to  any  limit;  he  will  fight  and  die 
without  shrinking.  But  he  is  not  a  natural 
fighting  man,  and  he  is  always  thinking  of  dying. 
We  love  fighting,  love  it  so  much  that  we  don't  give 
a  thought  to  the  dying  part.  We  just  look  upon 
the  risk  as  that  which  gives  spice  to  the  game." 

"I  believe,"  said  the  Marine,  thoughtfully, 
"that  you  have  exactly  described  the  difference 
between  the  races.  With  us  fighting  and  dying 
are  parts  of  one  great  glorious  game;  with  Fritz 
they  are  the  most  solemn  of  business.  We  laugh 
all  the  time  and  sing  music-hall  songs;  Fritz 
never  smiles  and  sings  the  Wacht  am  Rhein.  I 
am  beginning  to  realize  that  our  irrepressible 
levity  is  a  mighty  potent  force,  mightier  by  far 
than  Fritz's  solemnity.  The  true  English  spirit 
is  to  be  seen  at  its  best  and  brightest  in  the  Navy, 
and  the  Navy  is  always  ready  for  the  wildest  of 
schoolboy  rags.  If  I  had  not  come  to  sea  I  might 
myself  have  become  a  solemn  blighter  like  Fritz." 


In  the  wardroom  that  evening  the  Marine  re- 
peated the  Sub-Lieutenant's  story  and  was  assured 
that  it  was  true.  The  Navy  will  pull  a  Soldier's 
leg  with  a  joyous  disregard  for  veracity,  but  there 
is  a  crudity  about  its  invention  which  soon  ceases 
to  deceive.  They  can  invent  nothing  which 


110  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

approaches  in  wonder  the  marvels  which  happen 
every  day. 

The  talk  then  fell  upon  the  ever-engrossing  topic 
of  submarine  catching,  and  experiences  flowed  forth 
in  a  stream  which  filled  the  Marine  with  astonish- 
ment and  admiration.  He  had  never  served  an 
apprenticeship  in  a  submarine  catcher  and  the  sea 
business  in  small  sporting  craft  was  altogether 
new  to  him. 

"It  is  a  pity,"  at  last  said  a  regular  Navy  Lieu- 
tenant, "that  submarines  are  no  good  against 
other  submarines.  That  is  a  weakness  which  we 
must  seek  to  overcome  if,  as  seems  likely  in  the 
future,  navies  contain  more  under-water  boats 
than  any  other  craft." 

"That  is  not  quite  true,"  spoke  up  a  grizzled 
Royal  Naval  Reserve  man,  and  told  a  story  of 
submarine  v.  submarine  which  I  am  not  permitted 
to  repeat. 

"Yes,"  said  the  Commander  of  the  Utopia 
(The  Pongo's  ship).  "Very  clever  and  very  in- 
genious. But  did  you  ever  hear  how  the  Navy, 
not  the  merchant  service  this  time,  caught  a 

submarine  off  the  Lightship.  That  was 

finesse,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Royal  Naval  Reserve." 

Our  young  marine  hugged  himself.  He  had  set 
the  Navy  talking,  and  when  the  Navy  talks  there 
come  forth  things  which  make  glad  the  ears. 

"You  know  the  Lightship,"  went  on 

the  Commander,  a  sea  potentate  of  thirty-five, 
with  a  passion  for  music-hall  songs  which  he  sang 
most  divinely.  "She  is  anchored  on  a  shoal  which 
lies  off  the  entrance  to  one  of  the  busiest  of  our 
English  harbours.  Though  her  big  lantern  is 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  m 

not  lighted  in  war  time  the  ship  remains  as  a  day 
mark,  and  two  men  are  always  on  board  of  her. 
She  is  anchored  on  the  top  of  a  sandbank  where  at 
low  water  there  are  not  more  than  twelve  feet, 
though  close  by  the  channels  deepen  to  thirty 
feet.  A  little  while  ago  the  men  in  the  Lightship 
were  interested  to  observe  a  German  submarine 
approach  at  high  water — of  course  submerged — 
and  to  take  up  a  position  about  a  hundred  yards 
distant  where  the  low-water  soundings  were 
twenty-two  feet.  There  she  remained  on  the 
bottom  from  tide  to  tide,  watching  through  her 
periscope  all  the  shipping  which  passed  in  and 
out  of  the  harbour.  Her  draught  in  cruising 
trim  was  about  fourteen  feet,  so  that  at  high 
water  she  was  completely  submerged  except  for  the 
periscope  and  at  low  water  the  top  of  her  conning 
tower  showed  above  the  surface.  At  high  tide 
she  slipped  away  with  the  results  of  her  observa- 
tions. The  incident  was  reported  at  once  to  the 
naval  authorities  and  the  lightship  men  were 
instructed  to  report  again  at  once  if  the  sub- 
marine's performance  was  repeated.  A  couple  of 
days  later,  under  the  same  conditions,  Fritz  in  his 
submarine  came  back  and  the  whole  programme 
of  watchfully  waiting  was  gone  through  again.  He 
evidently  knew  the  soundings  to  a  hair  and  lay 
where  no  destroyer  could  quickly  get  at  him 
through  the  difficult  winding  channels  amid  the 
sandbanks  except  when  the  tide  was  nearly  at  the 
full.  Even  at  dead  low  water  he  could,  if  sur- 
prised, rise  and  float  and  rapidly  make  off  to  where 
there  was  depth  enough  to  dive.  He  couldn't 
be  rushed,  and  there  were  three  or  four  avenues 
of  escape.  Fritz  had  discovered  a  safe  post  of 


112  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

observation  and  seemed  determined  to  make  the 
most  of  it.  But,  Mr.  Royal  Naval  Reserve,  even 
the  poor  effete  old  Navy  has  brains  and  occasionally 
uses  them.  The  night  after  the  second  visit  an 
Admiralty  tug  came  along,  hauled  up  the  light- 
ship's anchors,  and  shifted  her  exactly  one  hundred 
yards  east-north-east.  You  will  note  that  the  Ger- 
man submarine's  chosen  spot  was  exactly  one  hun- 
dred yards  west-south-west  of  the  lightship's  old 
position.  The  change  was  so  slight  that  it  might  be 
expected  to  escape  notice.  And  so  it  did.  Three 
days  passed,  and  then  at  high  tide  the  U  boat  came 
cheerfully  along  upon  its  mission  and  lay  off  the 
lightship  exactly  as  before.  The  only  difference  was 
that  now  she  was  upon  the  top  of  the  shoal  with 
barely  twelve  feet  under  her  at  low  water  instead 
of  twenty-two  feet.  The  observers  in  the  lightship 
winked  at  one  another,  for  they  had  talked  with  the 
officer  of  the  Admiralty  tug  and  were  wise  to  the 
game.  The  tide  fell,  the  submarine  lay  peacefully 
on  the  bottom,  and  Fritz,  intent  to  watch  the  move- 
ments of  ships  in  and  out  of  the  harbour,  did  not 
notice  that  the  water  was  steadily  falling  away  from 
his  sides  and  leaving  his  whole  conning  tower  and 
deck  exposed.  Far  away  a  destroyer  was  watching, 
and  at  the  correct  moment,  when  the  water  around 
the  U  boat  was  too  shallow  to  float  her  even  in 
the  lightest  trim,  she  slipped  up  as  near  as  she 
could  approach,  trained  a  4-inch  gun  upon  Fritz 
and  sent  in  an  armed  boat's  crew  to  wish  him  good- 
day.  Poor  old  Fritz  knew  nothing  of  his  visitors 
until  they  were  hammering  violently  upon  his  fore 
hatch  and  calling  upon  him  to  come  out  and  sur- 
render. He  V7as  a  very  sick  man  and  did  not 
understand  at  all  how  he  had  been  caught  until 


WITH  THE  GRAND  FLEET  113 

the  whole  manoeuvre  had  been  kindly  explained 
to  him  by  the  Lieutenant-Commander  of  the 
destroyer,  from  whom  I  also  received  the  story. 
'You  see,  Fritz,  old  son/  observed  the  Lieutenant- 
Commander,  'Admiralty  charts  are  jolly  things 
and  you  know  all  about  them,  but  you  should 
sometimes  check  them  with  the  lead.  Things 
change,  Fritz;  light-ships  can  be  moved.  Come 
and  have  a  drink,  old  friend,  you  look  as  if  you 
needed  something  stiff/  Fritz  gulped  down  a 
tall  whisky  and  soda,  gasped,  and  gurgled  out, 
'That  was  damned  clever  and  I  was  a  damned  fool. 
For  God's  sake  don't  tell  them  in  Germany  how  I 
was  caught.'  'Not  for  worlds,  old  man,'  replied 
the  Lieutenant-Commander.  'We  will  say  that 
you  were  nabbed  while  trying  to  ditch  a  hospital 
ship.  There  is  glory  for  you/  " 

"A  very  nice  story,"  observed  the  Royal  Naval 
Reserve  man  drily. 

"I  believed  your  yarn,"  said  the  Commander 
reproachfully,  "and  mine  is  every  bit  as  true  as 
yours.  But  no  matter.  Call  up  the  band  and 
let  us  get  to  real  business." 

Two  minutes  later  the  ante-room  had  emptied, 
and  these  astonishing  naval  children  were  out  on 
the  half-deck  dancing  wildly  but  magnificently. 
Commanders  and  Lieutenants  were  mixed  up  with 
Subs.,  clerks  and  snotties  from  the  gun  room. 
Rank  disappeared  and  nothing  counted  but  the 
execution  of  the  most  complicated  Russian 
measures.  It  was  a  strange  scene  which  perhaps 
helps  to  reveal  that  combination  of  professional 
efficiency  and  childish  irresponsibility  which  makes 
the  Naval  Service  unlike  any  other  community  of 
men  and  boys  in  the  world. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  MEDITERRANEAN:   A  FAILURE  AND  ITS 
CONSEQUENCES 

WAR  is  made  up  of  successes  and  failures.  We 
English  do  not  forget  our  successes,  but  we  have 
an  incorrigible  habit  of  wiping  from  our  minds 
the  recollection  of  our  failures.  Which  is  a  very 
bad  habit,  for  as  every  man  realises,  during  his 
half-blind  stumbles  through  life,  failure  is  a  most 
necessary  schoolmistress.  Yet,  though  civilians 
seem  able  to  bring  themselves  to  forget  that  in 
war  we  ever  fail  of  success,  soldiers  and  sailors  do 
not  forget,  and  are  always  seeking  to  make  of  their 
admitted  mistakes,  stepping  stones  upon  which 
they  may  rise  to  ultimate  victory.  On  land  one 
may  retrieve  errors  more  readily  than  at  sea,  for 
movements  are  much  slower  and  evil  results 
declare  themselves  less  rapidly.  I  am  now  com- 
pelled to  write  of  a  failure  at  sea  very  early  in  the 
war,  which  was  not  retrieved,  and  which  had  a 
trail  of  most  disastrous  consequence;  and  I  hope 
to  do  it  without  imputing  blame  to  anyone,  no 
blame,  that  is,  except  for  the  lack  of  imaginative 
vision,  which  is  one  of  our  most  conspicuous  defects 
as  a  race. 

All  of  those  who  read  me  know  that  the  blows 
which  we  have  struck  in  France  and  Flanders,  ever 
since  the  crowning  victory  of  the  Marne — that 

114 


THE  MEDITERRANEAN  115 

still  unexplained  miracle  which  saved  western 
civilisation  from  ruin — are  the  direct  consequence 
of  the  success  in  the  North  Sea  of  our  mobilised 
fleets  in  August,  1914.  But  few  know — or  if 
they  do,  have  pushed  the  knowledge  testily  from 
their  minds — of  a  failure  hi  the  Mediterranean, 
also  in  August  of  1914,  a  failure  which  at  the 
time  may  have  seemed  of  little  account,  yet  out 
of  which  grew  in  inevitable  melancholy  sequence, 
a  tragical  train  of  troubles.  Though  we  may 
choose  to  forget,  Fate  has  a  memory  most  damnably 
long.  Nothing  would  be  more  unfair  than  to  lay 
at  the  door  of  the  Navy  the  blame  for  all  the 
consequences  of  a  failure  which,  it  has  been 
officially  held,  the  officers  on  the  spot  did  their 
utmost  to  avert.  Men  are  only  human  after  all, 
and  the  sea  is  a  very  big  place.  We  need  not 
censure  anyone.  Still,  we  should  be  most  foolish 
and  blind  to  the  lessons  of  war  if  we  did  not  now 
and  then  turn  aside  from  the  smug  contemplation 
of  our  strategical  and  tactical  victories,  and  seek 
in  a  humble  spirit  to  gather  instruction  from  a 
grievous  pondering  over  the  consequences  of  our 
defeats.  And  of  this  particular  defeat  of  which 
I  write  the  results  have  been  gloomy  beyond 
description — the  sword  in  the  balance  which  threw 
Turkey  and  Bulgaria  into  alliance  with  our  enemies, 
and  all  the  blood  and  the  tears  with  which  the 
soil  of  the  Near  East  has  been  soaked. 

When  war  broke  out  all  our  modern  battleships 
were  in  the  North  Sea,  but  of  our  nine  fast  battle 
cruisers  four  were  away.  The  Australia  was  at 
the  other  side  of  the  world,  and  the  Inflexible 
(flag),  Indomitable  and  Indefatigable  were  in  the 
Mediterranean.  We  also  had  four  armoured 


116  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

cruisers,  and  four  light  cruisers  in  the  Mediterranean 
— the  armoured  Defence,  Duke  of  Edinburgh,  War- 
rior and  Black  Prince,  the  light  fast  Gloucester 
of  the  new  "Town"  class,  a  sister  of  the  Glasgow 
and  the  Bristol,  and  three  other  similar  cruisers. 
The  Germans  had  in  the  Mediterranean  the  battle 
cruiser  Goeben,  as  fast,  though  not  so  powerfully 
gunned,  as  the  three  Inflexibles  of  ours.  She 
carried  ten  11-inch  guns,  while  our  battle  cruisers 
were  each  armed  with  eight  12-inch  guns.  The 
Goeben  had  as  her  consort  the  light  cruiser  Breslau, 
one  of  the  German  Town  class  built  in  1912,  a 
newer  and  faster  edition  of  the  earlier  Town 
cruisers  which  were  under  von  Spec  in  the  Pacific 
and  Atlantic.  She  could  have  put  up  a  good  fight 
though  probably  an  unsuccessful  one  against  the 
Gloucester,  but  was  no  match  for  the  Defence, 
the  Warrior,  the  Black  Prince  or  Duke  of  Edin- 
burgh. Our  squadrons  in  the  Mediterranean  were, 
therefore,  in  fighting  value  fully  three  times  as 
powerful  as  the  German  vessels.  Our  job  was  to 
catch  them  and  to  destroy  them,  but  unfortunately 
we  did  not  succeed  in  bringing  them  to  action. 
The  story  of  their  evasion  of  us,  and  of  what  their 
escape  involved  is,  to  my  mind,  one  of  the  most 
fascinating  stories  of  the  whole  war. 

War  officially  began  between  France  and  Ger- 
many upon  August  3rd  at  6.45  p.m.  when  the 
German  Ambassador  in  Paris  asked  for  his  pass- 
ports, and  between  Great  Britain  and  Germany 
upon  August  4th  at  11  p.m.,  when  our  ultimatum 
in  regard  to  Belgium  was  definitely  rejected.  But 
though  then  at  war  with  Germany,  England  did 
not  declare  war  on  Austria  until  midnight  of 
August  12th.  A  queer  situation  arose  in  the 


THE  MEDITERRANEAN  117 

Mediterranean  as  the  result  of  these  gaps  between 
the  dates  of  active  hostilities.  Upon  August  4th, 
the  German  cruisers  could  and  did  attack  French 
territory  without  being  attacked  by  us,  and  all 
through  those  fateful  days  of  August  5th  and  6th, 
when  our  three  battle  cruisers  were  hovering 
between  Messina  and  the  Adriatic  and  our  four 
armoured  cruisers  were  lying  a  little  to  the  south 
off  Syracuse,  Italy  was  neutral,  and  Austria  was 
not  at  war  with  us.  Our  naval  commanders  were 
in  the  highest  degree  anxious  to  do  nothing  which 
could  in  any  way  offend  Italy — whose  position 
as  still  a  member  of  the  Triple  Alliance  with  Austria 
and  Germany  was  delicate  in  the  extreme — and 
were  also  anxious  to  commit  no  act  of  hostility 
towards  Austria.  Upon  August  4th,  therefore, 
their  hands  were  tied  tight;  upon  the  5th  and  6th 
they  were  untied  as  against  the  German  cruisers, 
but  could  not  stretch  into  either  Italian  or  Austrian 
waters.  The  German  Admiral  took  full  advantage 
of  the  freedom  of  movement  allowed  to  him  by 
our  diplomatic  bonds. 

Let  us  now  come  to  the  story  of  the  escape  of 
the  two  German  cruisers,  indicate  as  clearly  as 
may  be  how  it  occurred,  and  suggest  how  the 
worst  consequences  of  that  escape  might  have 
been  retrieved  by  instant  and  spirited  action  on 
the  part  of  our  Government  at  home.  Naval 
responsibility,  as  distinct  from  political  responsi- 
bility, ended  with  the  escape  of  the  Goeben  and 
Breslau  and  their  entry  into  the  Dardanelles  on 
the  way  up  to  Constantinople  which  then,  and 
for  nearly  three  months  afterwards,  was  nominally 
a  neutral  port. 

On  July  31st,  1914,  the  Goeben,  a  battle  cruiser 


118  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

armed  with  ten  11-inch  guns,  and  with  a  full 
speed  of  twenty-eight  to  twenty-nine  knots,  was  at 
Brindisi  in  the  territorial  waters  of  Italy,  a  country 
which  was  then  regarded  by  the  Germans  as  an 
ally.  She  was  joined  there  on  August  1st  by  the 
Breslau,  a  light  cruiser  of  some  three  knots  less 
speed  than  the  Goeben  and  armed  only  with  twelve 
4.1-inch  guns.  The  German  commanders  had 
been  warned  of  the  imminence  of  hostilities  with 
France — and,  indeed,  upon  that  day  French  terri- 
tory had  been  violated  by  German  covering  troops, 
though  war  had  not  yet  been  declared.  The 
French  Fleet  was  far  away  to  the  west,  already 
busied  with  the  transport  of  troops  from  Algeria 
and  Morocco  to  Marseilles.  Based  upon  Malta 
and  in  touch  with  the  French  was  the  British 
heavy  squadron  of  three  battle  cruisers.  The 
Indefatigable,  a  heavier  and  faster  vessel  than 
either  of  the  sisters  Inflexible  or  Indomitable,  was 
certainly  a  match  for  the  Goeben  by  herself;  the 
three  battle  cruisers  combined  were  of  over- 
powering strength.  Accompanying  the  battle 
cruisers  was  the  armoured  cruiser  squadron — 
Black  Prince,  Duke  of  Edinburgh,  Warrior  and 
Defence — together  with  the  light  cruiser  Gloucester. 
The  other  light  cruisers  and  the  destroyer  escort 
do  not  come  directly  into  my  picture.  The 
Gloucester — which,  as  she  showed  later,  had  the 
heels  of  the  Breslau  though  not  of  the  speedy 
Goeben — was  despatched  at  once  to  the  Adriatic 
to  keep  watch  upon  the  movements  of  the  Germans. 
So  long  as  the  Germans  were  hi  the  Adriatic,  the 
English  Admiral,  Sir  Berkeley  Milne,  could  do 
nothing  to  prevent  their  junction  with  the  Austrians 
at  Pola,  but  upon  August  2nd,  they  both  came 


THE  MEDITERRANEAN 


119 


120  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

out  and  went  to  Messina,  and  so  uncovered  the 
Straits  of  Otranto,  which  gave  passage  between 
Messina  and  the  Adriatic.  The  English  battle 
cruisers  then  steamed  to  the  south  and  east  of 
Sicily,  bound  for  the  Otranto  Straits.  Rear- 
Admiral  Troubridge,  in  command  of  the  English 
armoured  cruisers,  remained  behind. 

Upon  August  1st,  the  Italian  Government  had 
declared  its  intention  to  be  neutral,  and  upon 
the  3rd  the  Italian  authorities  at  Messina  refused 
coal  to  the  German  ships,  very  much  to  the  out- 
spoken disgust  and  disappointment  of  the  German 
Admiral  who  had  reckoned  Italy  as  at  least  passively 
benevolent.  But  being  a  man  of  resource,  he 
filled  his  bunkers  from  those  of  German  vessels 
in  the  harbour,  and  early  in  the  morning  of  August 
4th — having  received  news  the  previous  evening 
that  war  had  broken  out  with  France,  and  was 
imminent  with  England — dashed  at  the  Algerian 
coast  and  bombarded  Philippeville  and  Bona, 
whence  troops  had  been  arranged  to  sail  for  France. 
When  one  reflects  upon  the  position  of  Admiral 
Souchon,  within  easy  striking  distance  of  three 
English  battle  cruisers,  which  at  any  moment 
might  have  been  transformed  by  wireless  orders 
into  enemies  of  overwhelming  power,  this  dash 
upon  Phillippeville  and  Bona  was  an  exploit 
which  would  merit  an  honourable  mention  upon 
any  navy's  records.  Souchon  did,  in  the  time 
available  to  him,  all  the  damage  that  he  could  to 
his  enemy's  arrangements,  and  then  sped  back  to 
Messina,  passing  on  the  way  the  Inflexible  (flag), 
Indomitable,  and  Gloucester,  which  had  thus  got 
into  close  touch  with  the  Germans,  though  they 
were  not  yet  free  to  go  for  them.  The  enterprising 


THE  MEDITERRANEAN  121 

Souchon  had  cut  his  time  rather  fine,  and  come 
near  the  edge  of  destruction;  for  though  at  the 
moment  of  passing  the  Inflexible  and  Indomitable 
England  was  still  at  peace  with  Germany,  war  was 
declared  before  he  reached  the  neutral  refuge  of 
Messina  on  August  5th.  Milne's  hands  were  thus 
tied  at  the  critical  moment  when  he  had  both 
the  elusive  German  cruisers  under  the  muzzles  of 
his  hungry  guns. 

At  Messina  the  Goeben  and  Breslau  were  again 
refused  coal,  and  were  ordered  to  be  clear  of  the 
port  within  twenty-four  hours.  Italy  was  reso- 
lutely neutral;  it  was  a  severe  blow.  Upon  the 
night  of  August  4th-5th  had  come  another  blow 
—a  wireless  message,  picked  up  at  sea,  that  England 
had  declared  war.  The  position  of  the  Germans 
now  appeared  to  be  desperate,  more  so  to  them 
than  even  to  us,  for  Admiral  Souchon  had  already 
been  warned  by  the  Austrians  not  to  attempt  the 
passage  of  the  Straits  of  Otranto,  and  had  also 
received  direct  orders  at  Messina  from  Berlin  to 
make  a  break  eastwards  for  Constantinople.  His 
prospects  of  eluding  our  Squadrons  and  of  reaching 
the  Dardanelles  must  have  seemed  to  him  of  the 
smallest.  It  is  of  interest  to  note,  as  revealing 
the  hardy  quality  of  Admiral  Souchon,  that  these 
orders  from  Berlin  reached  him  at  midnight  upon 
August  3rd  before  he  made  his  raid  upon  Phillippe- 
ville  and  Bona.  He  might  have  steamed  off  at 
once  towards  the  east  in  comparative  security, 
for  England  was  not  yet  at  war  and  our  battle 
cruisers  were  not  yet  waiting  upon  his  doorstep. 
But  instead  of  seeking  safety  in  flight  he  struck 
a  shrewd  blow  for  his  country  and  set  back  the 
hour  of  his  departure  for  the  east  by  three  whole 


122  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

days.  He  sent  off  a  wireless  message  to  Greece 
asking  that  coal  might  be  got  ready  for  his  ships 
near  an  inconspicuous  island  in  the  ^Egean. 
Admiral  Souchon  may  personally  be  a  frightful 
Hun — I  don't  know,  I  have  never  met  him — but, 
I  confess  that,  as  a  sailor,  he  appeals  to  me  very 
strongly.  In  resource,  in  cool  decision,  and  in 
dashing  leadership  he  was  the  unquestioned  superior 
of  the  English  Admirals,  whose  job  it  was  to  get 
the  better  of  him. 

Upon  August  6th,  a  day  big  with  fate  for  us 
and  for  South  Eastern  Europe,  the  Goeben  and 
Breslau  were  at  Messina  with  steam  up.  They 
had  again  obtained  coal  from  compatriot  ships 
and  could  snap  their  fingers  at  Italian  neutrality. 
Watching  them  was  the  light  cruiser  Gloucester, 
which  was  no  match  at  all  for  the  Goeben,  and 
strung  out  to  the  north-east,  guarding  the  passage 
from  Messina  to  the  Adriatic,  were  the  three 
English  battle  cruisers  Inflexible,  Indomitable  and 
Indefatigable.  The  English  armoured  cruisers, 
Black  Prince,  Duke  of  Edinburgh,  Defence  and 
Warrior,  were  cruising  to  the  South  of  Syracuse. 
It  is  not  contended  that  these  four  vessels  could 
not  have  been  off  Messina,  and  could  not  have  met 
and  fought  Souchon,  when  at  last  he  issued  forth. 
The  contention  is — and  since  it  has  been  accepted 
by  the  Admiralty  as  sound,  one  is  compelled  humbly 
to  say  little — that  none  of  these  cruisers  was  suffi- 
ciently armed  or  armoured  to  risk  action  with  a 
battle  cruiser  of  the  Goeben's  class.  It  is  urged 
that  if  Milne  had  ordered  the  armoured  cruiser 
squadron  to  fight  the  Goeben,  their  Admiral, 
Troubridge,  might  have  anticipated  the  fate  of 
Cradock  three  months  later  at  Coronel.  Not  one 


THE  MEDITERRANEAN  123 

of  them  had  a  speed  approaching  that  of  the 
Goeben,  and  their  twenty-two  heavy  guns  were 
of  9.2-inch  calibre  as  opposed  to  the  ten  11-inch 
guns  of  the  Germans.  That  they  would  have 
suffered  serious  loss  is  beyond  doubt;  but  might 
they  not,  while  dying,  have  damaged  and  delayed 
the  Goeben  for  a  sufficient  time  to  allow  the  two 
Inflexibles  and  the  Indefatigable  to  come  down 
and  gobble  her  up?  It  is  not  for  a  layman  to 
offer  any  opinion  upon  these  high  naval  matters. 
But  ever  since  the  action  was  not  fought,  and  the 
Goeben  and  Breslau  escaped,  whenever  two  or 
three  naval  officers  are  gathered  together  and  the 
subject  is  discussed,  the  vote  is  always  thrown 
upon  the  side  of  fighting.  The  Soul  of  the  Navy 
revolts  at  the  thought  that  its  business  is  to  play 
for  safety  when  great  risks  boldly  faced  may  yield 
great  fruits  of  victory. 

The  dispositions  of  the  English  Admiral  were 
designed  to  meet  one  contingency  only — an  attempt 
by  the  Germans  to  pass  the  Straits  of  Otranto  and 
to  join  the  Austrians;  he  had  evidently  no  sus- 
picion that  they  had  been  ordered  to  Constantinople 
and  took  no  steps  to  bar  their  way  to  the  east. 
The  handling  of  his  two  ships  by  Admiral  Souchon 
was  masterly.  Until  the  latest  minute  he  masked 
his  intentions  and  completely  outmanoeuvred  his 
powerful  English  opponents.  Issuing  from  Messina 
on  the  afternoon  of  August  6th,  he  made  towards 
the  north-east  as  if  about  to  hazard  the  passage 
to  the  Adriatic,  and  the  small  Gloucester,  which 
most  gallantly  kept  touch  with  far  superior  forces 
— she  was  some  two  knots  slower  than  the  Goeben, 
though  rather  faster  than  the  Breslau — fell  back 
before  him  and  called  up  the  battle  cruisers  on 


124  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

her  wireless.  Souchon  did  not  attempt  to  interfere 
with  the  Gloucester,  for  she  was  doing  exactly  what 
he  desired  of  her.  He  kept  upon  his  course  to 
the  north-east  until  darkness  came  down,  and  then 
swinging  suddenly  eight  points  to  starboard,  pointed 
straight  for  Cape  Matapan  far  off  to  the  south-east 
and  called  for  full  speed.  Then  and  then  only  he 
gave  the  order  to  jam  the  Gloucester's  wireless. 

He  did  not  wholly  succeed,  the  Gloucester's 
warning  of  his  change  of  route  got  through  to  the 
battle  cruisers,  but  they  were  too  far  away  to 
interpose  their  bulky  veto  on  the  German  plans. 
For  two  hours  the  German  ships  travelled  at  full 
speed,  the  Goeben  leading,  and  behind  them  trailed 
the  gallant  Gloucester,  though  she  had  nothing 
bigger  in  her  armoury  than  two  6-inch  guns,  and 
could  have  been  sunk  by  a  single  shell  from  the 
Goebcn's  batteries.  Twice  she  overhauled  the 
Breslau  and  fired  upon  her,  and  twice  the  Goeben 
had  to  fall  back  to  the  aid  of  her  consort  and  drive 
away  the  persistent  English  captain.  The  gallantry 
of  the  Gloucester  alone  redeems  the  event  from 
being  a  bitter  English  humiliation.  All  the  while 
she  was  vainly  pursuing  the  German  vessels  the 
Gloucester  continued  her  calls  for  help.  They 
got  through,  but  the  Goeben  and  Breslau  had  seized 
too  long  a  start.  They  were  clear  away  for  the 
Dardanelles  and  Constantinople,  and  were  safe 
from  effective  pursuit. 

Vice-Admiral  Souchon  knew  his  Greeks  and  his 
Turks  better  than  we  did.  He  coaled  his  ships 
at  the  small  island  of  Denusa  in  the  Cyclades  with 
the  direct  connivance  of  King  Constantine,  who 
had  arranged  for  coal  to  be  sent  over  from  Syra, 
and  ignored  a  formal  message  from  the  Sublime 


THE  MEDITERRANEAN  125 

Porte  forbidding  him  to  pass  the  Dardanelles. 
He  was  confident  that  the  Turks,  still  anxious  to 
sit  upon  the  fence  until  the  safer  side  were  dis- 
closed, would  not  dare  to  fire  upon  him,  and  he 
was  justified  in  his  confidence.  He  steamed 
through  the  Narrows  unmolested  and  anchored 
before  Constantinople.  There  a  telegram  was 
handed  to  him  from  the  Kaiser:  "His  Majesty 
sends  you  his  acknowledgments."  One  must 
allow  that  the  Imperial  congratulations  were 
worthily  bestowed.  Souchon  had  done  for  Ger- 
many a  greater  service  than  had  any  of  her  generals 
or  admirals  or  diplomats;  he  had  definitely  com- 
mitted Turkey  to  the  side  of  the  Central  Powers. 
•  •  •  •  • 

If  of  all  words  of  tongue  and  pen 
The  saddest  are  "It  might  have  been," 
More  sad  are  these  we  daily  see, 
"  It  is,  but  hadn't  ought  to  be." 

— Bret  Harte. 

For  the  escape  of  the  Goeben  and  Breslau,  the 
Royal  Navy  was  responsible,  but  for  the  conse- 
quences which  grew  out  of  that  escape  the  respon- 
sibility rests  upon  La  haute  Politique  at  home. 
The  naval  failure  might  have  been  retrieved  within 
forty-eight  hours  had  our  Foreign  Office  under- 
stood the  hesitating  Turkish  mind,  and  had  realised 
that  Souchon's  breach  of  the  Dardanelles  Con- 
vention— which  bars  the  Straits  to  foreign  war- 
ships— had  brought  to  us  a  Heaven-sent  oppor- 
tunity to  cut  the  bonds  of  gold  and  intrigue  which 
bound  the  Turkish  Government  to  that  of  Germany. 
Every  Englishman  in  Constantinople  expected 
that  a  pursuing  English  squadron  of  overwhelming 
power  would  immediately  appear  off  the  Turkish 


126  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

capital  and  insist  upon  the  surrender  or  destruction 
of  the  German  trespassers.  Just  as  Souchon  had 
passed  the  Dardanelles  unmolested,  so  Milne  with 
his  three  battle  cruisers — had  orders  been  sent  to 
him — might  have  passed  them  on  the  day  follow- 
ing. The  Turks  own  no  argument  but  force,  and 
the  greater  force  would  have  appeared  to  them 
to  be  the  better  argument.  Milne,  had  he  been 
permitted  by  the  British  Foreign  Office,  could 
have  followed  the  Goeben  and  Breslau  to  Constan- 
tinople and  sunk  them  there  before  the  eyes  of  the 
world.  Had  he  done  so,  the  history  of  the  war 
would  have  been  very  different.  Upon  the  Cabinet 
at  home  must  rest  the  eternal  responsibility  for 
not  seeing  and  not  seizing  the  finest  and  least 
hazardous  opportunity  that  has  been  offered  to 
us  of  determining  by  one  bold  stroke  the  course  of 
the  war.  The  three  English  battle  cruisers  could 
not  have  seized  Constantinople  any  more  effectively 
than  the  English  Squadron,  without  military  co- 
operation, could  have  seized  it  seven  months  later 
had  it  succeeded  in  f  orcing  with  its  guns  the  passage 
of  the  Narrows.  But  they  could  have  revealed 
to  the  vacillating  Turks,  as  in  a  lightning  flash, 
that  the  Allies  had  the  wit  to  see,  and  the  boldness 
to  grasp  the  vital  opportunities  offered  by  war. 
But  our  Government  had  neither  the  wit  nor  the 
courage,  the  wonderful  chance  was  allowed  to  slip 
by  unused,  and  the  costliest  failure  of  the  war  was 
consummated  in  all  its  tragic  fullness. 

All  through  August  and  September  and  right 
up  to  the  moment  when,  late  in  October,  Turkey 
was  forced  into  the  war  by  German  pressure,  our 
Foreign  Office  hugged  the  belief — God  alone  knows 
how  acquired — that  diplomatic  pressure  at  Con- 


THE  MEDITERRANEAN  127 

stantinople  could  counteract  the  display  of  success- 
ful force  embodied  in  the  frowning  guns  of  the 
Goeben  and  the  Breslau.  In  the  eyes  of  a  non- 
maritime  people  two  modern  warships  within  easy 
gunshot  of  their  chief  city  are  of  more  pressing 
consequence  than  the  Grand  Fleet  far  away.  Our 
Government  accepted  gladly  the  preposterous  story 
that  these  German  ships  had  been  purchased  by 
the  Turks — with  German  money — and  had  been 
taken  over  by  Turkish  officers  and  crews.  It  is 
pitiful  to  read  now  the  official  statement  isssued  on 
August  15th,  1914,  through  the  newly  formed 
Press  Bureau:  "The  Press  Bureau  states  that 
there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that  the  Turkish  Gov- 
ernment is  about  to  replace  the  German  officers  and 
crews  of  the  Goeben  and  Breslau  by  Turkish  officers 
and  crews."  As  evidence  of  Oriental  good  faith 
a  photograph  of  the  Goeben  flying  the  Turkish 
naval  flag  was  kindly  supplied  for  publication  in 
English  newspapers.  What  could  be  more  con- 
vincing? Then,  when  the  moment  was  ripe  and 
there  was  no  more  need  for  the  verisimilitude  of 
photographs,  came  the  rough  awakening,  an- 
nounced as  follows: 

"On  October  29th,  without  notice  and  without 
anything  to  show  that  such  action  was  pending, 
three  Turkish  torpedo  craft  appeared  suddenly 
before  Odessa.  .  .  .  The  same  day  the  cruisers 
Breslau  and  Hamidieh  bombarded  several  com- 
mercial ports  in  the  Black  Sea,  including  Novo- 
rossisk and  Theodosia.  In  the  forenoon  of 
October  30th,  the  Goeben  bombarded  Sevastopol 
without  causing  any  serious  damage.  By  way  of 
reprisals  the  Franco-British  squadron  in  the  Eastern 


128  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

Mediterranean  carried  out  a  demonstration  against 
the  forts  at  the  entrance  to  the  Dardanelles  at 
daybreak  on  November  3rd." 

No  comment  which  I  might  make  could  bite 
more  deeply  than  the  bald  quotation  describing 
this  irruption  of  Turkey  as  ''without  motive  and 
without  anything  to  show  that  such  action  was 
pending."  Caeci  sunt  oculi  cum  animus  alias 
res  agit — The  eyes  are  blind  when  the  mind  is 
obsessed. 


CHAPTER  VH 

IN  THE   SOUTH   SEAS:     THE   DISASTER  OFF  CORONEL 

Sunset  and  evening  star 
And  after  that  the  dark. 

DURING  the  years  1912  and  1913  the  Captain  of 
the  British  cruiser  Monmouth,  the  senior  English 
Naval  Officer  on  the  China  Station,  and  Admiral 
Count  von  Spee,  commanding  the  German  Far- 
Eastern  Squadron,  were  close  and  intimate  friends. 
The  intimacy  of  the  chiefs  extended  to  the  officers 
and  men  of  the  two  squadrons.  The  English  and 
Germans  discussed  with  one  another  the  chances 
of  war  between  their  nations,  and  wished  one 
another  the  best  of  luck  when  the  scrap  came. 
The  German  Squadron,  which  has  since  been 
destroyed,  was  like  no  other  in  the  Kaiser's  Navy. 
It  was  commanded  by  professional  officers  and 
manned  by  long-service  ratings.  It  had  taken 
for  its  model  the  English  Navy,  and  it  had  ab- 
sorbed much  of  the  English  naval  spirit.  Count 
von  Spee,  though  a  Prussian  Junker,  was  a  gentle- 
man, and  with  Captain  von  Miiller,  who  after- 
wards made  the  name  of  the  Emden  immortal,  was 
worthy  to  serve  under  the  White  Ensign.  Let 
us  always  be  just  to  those  of  our  foes  who,  though 
they  fight  with  us  terribly,  yet  remain  our  chivalrous 

129 


130  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

friends.  I  will  tell  a  pretty  story  which  will 
illustrate  the  spirit  of  comradeship  which  existed 
between  the  English  and  German  squadrons  during 
those  two  years  before  the  war. 

In  December  1912  the  Monmouth  was  cruising 
in  the  Gulf  of  Pechili,  which  resembles  a  long 
flask  with  a  narrow  bottle  neck.  Admiral  von 
Spee,  who  was  lying  with  his  powerful  squadron 
off  Chifu,  in  the  neck  of  the  bottle,  received  word 
from  a  correspondent  that  the  second  Balkan  War 
had  brought  England  and  Germany  within  a  short 
distance  of  "  Der  Tag."  Von  Spee  and  his  officers 
did  not  clink  glasses  to  "  The  Day  "  ;  they  were 
professionals  who  knew  the  English  Navy  and  its 
incomparable  power;  they  left  silly  boastings  to 
civilians  and  to  their  colleagues  of  Kiel  who  had 
not  eaten  of  English  salt.  Count  von  Spee  thought 
first  of  his  English  friend  who,  in  his  elderly  cruiser, 
was  away  up  in  the  Gulf  at  the  mercy  of  the 
German  Squadron,  which  was  as  a  cork  in  its 
neck.  He  at  once  dispatched  a  destroyer  to  find 
the  Monmouth's  captain  and  to  warn  him  that 
though  there  might  be  nothing  in  the  news  it 
were  better  for  him  to  get  clear  of  the  Gulf. 
"There  may  be  nothing  in  the  yarn,"  he  wrote, 
"I  have  had  many  scares  before.  But  it  would 
be  well  if  you  got  out  of  the  Gulf.  I  should  be 
most  sorry  to  have  to  sink  you."  When  the 
destroyer  came  up  with  the  Monmouth  she  had 
returned  to  Wei-hai-wei,  and  the  message  was 
delivered.  Her  skipper  laughed,  and  sent  an 
answer  somewhat  as  follows:  "My  dear  von  Spee, 
thank  you  very  much.  I  am  here.  J'y  suis, 
J'y  reste.  I  shall  expect  you  and  your  guns  at 
breakfast  to-morrow  morning."  War  did  not 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  131 

come  then;  when  von  Spec  did  meet  and  sink 
the  Monmouth  she  had  another  captain  in  com- 
mand, but  the  story  remains  as  evidence  of  the 
chivalrous  naval  spirit  of  the  gallant  and  skilful 
von  Spee. 

In  November  1913  the  Monmouth  left  the  China 
Station,  and  before  she  went,  upon  November  6th, 
her  crew  were  entertained  sumptuously  by  von 
Spee  and  von  Muller.  She  was  paid  off  in  January 
1914,  after  reaching  home,  but  was  recommissioned 
in  the  following  July  for  the  test  mobilisation, 
which  at  the  moment  meant  so  much,  and  which 
a  few  weeks  later  was  to  mean  so  much  more. 
When  the  war  broke  out,  the  Monmouth,  with  her 
new  officers  and  men,  half  of  whom  were  naval 
reservists,  was  sent  back  to  the  Pacific.  The 
armoured  cruiser  Good  Hope,  also  commissioned 
in  July,  was  sent  with  her,  and  the  old  battleship 
Canopus  was  despatched  a  little  later.  Details  of 
the  movements  of  these  and  of  other  of  our  war 
ships  in  the  South  Atlantic  and  Pacific  are  given 
in  the  chapters  entitled  "The  Cruise  of  the  Glas- 
gow." The  Glasgow  had  been  in  the  South  Atlantic 
at  the  outbreak  of  war,  and  was  joined  there  by 
the  Good  Hope  and  Monmouth. 

Meanwhile  war  had  broken  out,  and  we  will  for 
a  few  moments  consider  what  resulted.  The 
Emden,  Captain  von  Muller,  was  at  the  German 
base  of  Tsing-tau,  but  Admiral  von  Spee,  with  the 
armoured  cruisers  Scharnhorst  and  Gneisenau,  was 
among  the  German  Caroline  Islands  far  to  the 
south  of  the  China  Sea.  The  Dresden  was  in 
the  West  Indies  and  the  Leipzig  and  Nurnberg  on  the 
West  Coast  of  Mexico  (the  Pacific  side).  The 
Japanese*  Fleet  undertook  to  keep  von  Spee  out 


132  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

of  China  waters  to  the  north,  and  the  Australian 
Unit — which  then  was  at  full  strength  and  included 
the  battle  cruiser  Australia  with  her  eight  12-inch 
guns  and  the  light  cruisers  Melbourne  and  Sydney, 
each  armed  with  eight  sixes — made  themselves 
responsible  for  the  Australian  end  of  the  big  sea 
area.  The  Emden,  disguised  as  an  English  cruiser, 
with  four  funnels — the  dummy  one  made  of 
canvas — got  out  of  Tsing-tau  under  the  noses  of 
the  Japanese  watchers,  made  off  towards  the 
Indian  Ocean,  and  pursued  that  lively  and  solitary 
career  which  came  to  its  appointed  end  at  the 
Cocos-Keeling  Islands,  as  will  be  described  fully 
later  on  in  this  book.  The  Australian  Unit,  burn- 
ing with  zeal  to  fire  its  maiden  guns  at  a  substantial 
enemy,  sought  diligently  for  von  Spee  and  requisi- 
tioned the  assistance  of  the  French  armoured 
cruiser  Montcalm,  an  old  slow  and  not  very  useful 
vessel  which  happened  to  be  available  for  the  hunt. 
Von  Spee  was  discovered  in  his  island  retreat  and 
pursued  as  far  as  Fiji,  but  the  long  arm  of  the 
English  Admiralty  then  interposed  and  upset  the 
merry  game.  We  were  short  of  battle  cruisers 
where  we  wanted  them  most — in  the  North  Sea — 
so  the  Australia  was  summoned  home  and  the 
remaining  ships  of  the  Unit,  no  longer  by  them- 
selves a  match  for  Von  Spee,  were  ordered  back 
to  Sydney  in  deep  disgust.  "A  little  more," 
declared  the  bold  Australians,  who  under  their 
English  professional  officers  had  been  hammered 
into  a  real  Naval  Unit,  "and  we  would  have  done 
the  work  which  the  Invincible  and  Inflexible  had 
to  do  later.  If  we  had  been  left  alone  there  would 
not  have  been  any  disaster  off  Coronel."  While 
one  can  sympathise  with  complaints  such  as  this 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  133 

from  eager  fire-eaters,  one  has  to  accept  their 
assertions  with  due  caution.  The  German  High 
Seas  Fleet  was  at  that  time  a  more  important 
objective  than  even  von  Spec.  So  the  Australia 
sailed  for  England  to  join  up  with  the  Grand  Fleet, 
and  von  Spee  had  rest  for  several  weeks.  He  was 
not  very  enterprising.  Commerce  hunting  did 
not  much  appeal  to  him,  though  his  light  cruisers, 
the  Dresden  and  Leipzig,  did  some  little  work  in 
that  line  when  on  their  way  to  join  their  Chief 
at  Easter  Island  where  the  squadron  ultimately 
concentrated.  On  the  way  across,  von  Spee 
visited  Samoa,  from  which  we  had  torn  down  the 
German  flag,  but  did  no  damage  there.  On 
September  22nd,  he  bombarded  Tahiti,  in  the 
Society  Islands,  a  foolish  proceeding  of  which 
he  repented  later  on  when  the  Coronel  action  left 
him  short  of  shell  with  no  means  of  replenish- 
ment. For  eight  days  he  stayed  in  the  Marquesas 
Islands  taking  in  provisions,  thence  he  went  to 
Easter  Island  and  Masafuera,  and  so  to  Valparaiso, 
where  the  Chilian  Government,  though  neutral, 
was  not  unbenevolent.  He  was  for  three  weeks 
at  Easter  Island  (Chilian  territory),  coaling  from 
German  ships  there,  and  hi  this  remote  spot — a 
sort  of  Chilian  St.  Kilda — remained  hidden  both 
from  the  Chilian  authorities  and  from  our  South 
Atlantic  Squadron. 

We  must  now  return  to  the  British  Squadron 
which  had  been  sent  out  to  deal  with  -von  Spee 
as  best  it  might.  Cradock  with  such  a  squadron, 
all,  except  the  light  cruiser  Glasgow,  old  and  slow, 
had  no  means  of  bringing  von  Spee  to  action  under 
conditions  favourable  to  himself,  or  of  refusing 
action  when  conditions  were  adverse.  Von  Spee, 


134  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

with  his  concentrated  homogeneous  squadron,  all 
comparatively  new  and  well-armed  cruisers,  all 
of  about  the  same  speed  of  twenty-one  or  twenty- 
two  knots,  all  trained  to  a  hair  by  constant  work 
during  a  three  years'  commission,  had  under  his 
hand  an  engine  of  war  perfect  of  its  kind.  He 
could  be  sure  of  getting  the  utmost  out  of  co- 
operative efforts.  The  most  powerful  hi  guns  of 
the  English  vessels  was  the  battleship  Canopus, 
which,  when  the  action  off  Coronel  was  fought, 
was  200  miles  away  to  the  south.  She  bore  four 
12-inch  guns  in  barbettes — in  addition  to  twelve 
sixes — but  she  was  fourteen  years  old  and  could 
not  raise  more  than  about  thirteen  to  fourteen 
knots  except  for  an  occasional  burst.  Any  one 
of  von  Spec's  ships,  with  50  per  cent,  more  speed, 
could  have  made  rings  round  her.  Had  Cradock 
waited  for  the  Canopus, — as  he  was  implored  to 
do  by  her  captain,  Grant, — and  set  the  speed  of  his 
squadron  by  hers,  von  Spec  could  have  fought 
him  or  evaded  him  exactly  as  he  pleased.  "If 
the  English  had  kept  their  forces  together,"  wrote 
von  Spec  after  Coronel,  "then  we  should  certainly 
have  got  the  worst  of  it."  This  was  the  modest 
judgment  of  a  brave  man,  but  it  is  scarcely  true. 
If  the  English  had  kept  their  forces  together  von 
Spee  need  never  have  fought;  they  would  have 
had  not  the  smallest  chance  of  getting  near  him 
except  by  his  own  wish.  Admiral  Cradock  flew 
his  flag  in  the  armoured  cruiser  Good  Hope,  which, 
though  of  14,000  tons  and  520  feet  long,  had  only 
two  guns  of  bigger  calibre  than  6-inch.  These  were 
of  9.2  inches,  throwing  a  shell  of  380  lb.,  but  the 
guns,  like  the  ship,  were  twelve  years  old.  Her 
speed  was  about  seventeen  knots,  four  or  five 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  135 

knots  less  than  that  of  the  German  cruisers  she 
had  come  to  chase !  The  Monmouth,  of  the  "  County 
Class,"  was  as  obsolete  as  the  Good  Hope.  Eleven 
years  old,  of  nearly  10,000  tons,  she  carried  nothing 
better  than  fourteen  6-inch  guns  of  bygone  pattern. 
She  may  have  been  good  for  a  knot  or  two 
more  than  the  Good  Hope,  but  her  cruising  and 
fighting  speed  was,  of  course,  that  of  the  flag- 
ship. 

The  one  effective  ship  of  the  whole  squadron 
was  the  Glasgow,  which  curiously  enough  is  the 
sole  survivor  now  of  the  Coronel  action,  either 
German  or  English.  Out  of  the  eight  warships 
which  fought  there  off  the  Chilian  coast  on  No- 
vember 1st,  1914,  five  German  and  three  English, 
the  Glasgow  alone  remains  afloat.  She  is  a  modern 
light  cruiser,  first  commissioned  in  1911.  The 
Glasgow  is  light,  long  and  lean.  She  showed  that 
she  could  steam  fully  twenty-five  knots  and 
could  fight  her  two  6-inch  and  ten  4-inch  guns 
most  effectively.  She  was  a  match  for  any  one  of 
von  Spec's  light  cruisers,  though  unable  to  stand 
up  to  the  Scharnhorst  or  Gneisenau.  The  modern 
English  navy  has  been  built  under  the  modern 
doctrine  of  speed  and  gun-power — the  Good  Hope, 
Monmouth,  and  Canopw,  the  products  of  a  bad, 
stupid  era  in  naval  shipbuilding,  had  neither  speed 
nor  gun-power.  The  result,  the  inevitable  result, 
was  the  disaster  of  Coronel  in  which  the  English 
ships  were  completely  defeated  and  the  Germans 
barely  scratched.  The  Germans  had  learned  the 
lesson  which  we  ourselves  had  taught  them. 

When  one  considers  the  two  squadrons  which 
met  and  fought  off  Coronel,  in  the  light  of  ex- 
perience cast  by  war,  one  feels  no  surprise  that 


136  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

the  action  was  over  in  fifty-two  minutes.  Cradock 
and  his  men,  1,600  of  them,  fought  and  died. 

Sunset  and  evening  star 
And  after  that  the  dark. 

The  Glasgow  would  also  have  been  lost  had  she 
not  been  a  new  ship  with  speed  and  commanded 
by  a  man  with  the  moral  courage  to  use  it  in  order 
to  preserve  his  vessel  and  her  crew  for  the  further 
service  of  their  country.  Von  Spee,  who  had 
the  mastery  of  manoeuvre,  brought  Cradock  to 
action  when  and  how  he  pleased,  and  emphasised 
for  the  hundredth  time  in  naval  warfare  that  speed 
and  striking  power  and  squadron  training  will 
win  victory  certainly,  inevitably,  and  almost  with- 
out hurt  to  the  victors.  Like  the  Falkland  Islands 
action  of  five  weeks  afterwards,  that  off  Coronel 
was  a  gun  action.  No  torpedoes  were  used  on 
either  side.  Probably  it  was  one  of  the  last  purely 
gun  actions  which  will  be  fought  in  our  tune. 

At  the  end  of  October  the  British  and  German 
squadrons  were  near  to  one  another,  though  until 
they  actually  met  off  Coronel  the  British  com- 
manders did  not  know  that  the  concentrated 
German  Squadron  was  off  the  Chilian  coast.  Von 
Spee  knew  that  an  old  pre-Dreadnought  battle- 
ship had  come  out  from  England,  though  he  was 
not  sure  of  her  class.  He  judged  her  speed  to  be 
higher  than  that  of  the  Canopus,  which,  though 
powerfully  armed,  was  so  lame  a  duck  that  she 
would  have  been  more  of  a  hindrance  than  a  help 
had  Cradock  joined  up  with  her.  Von  Spee  had 
an  immense  advantage  in  the  greater  handiness 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  137 

and  cohesiveness  of  his  ships.  The  Scharnhorst 
and  Gneisenau  were  sisters,  completed  in  1907, 
and  alike  in  all  respects.  Their  shooting  records 
were  first-class;  they  were  indeed  the  crack 
gunnery  ships  under  the  German  ensign.  Their 
sixteen  8. 2-inch  guns — eight  each — fired  shells  of 
275  Ib.  weight,  nearly  three  times  the  weight  of 
the  100-lb.  shells  fired  from  the  6-inch  guns  which 
formed  the  chief  batteries  of  their  opponents  the 
Good  Hope  and  Monmouth.  They  were  three 
months  out  of  dock  but  they  could  still  steam,  as 
they  showed  at  Coronel,  at  over  twenty  knots  in 
a  heavy  sea.  The  light  cruisers  Dresden,  Leipzig 
and  Nurnberg  were  not  identical  though  very 
nearly  alike.  Their  armament  was  the  same — 
ten  4.1-inch  guns  apiece — and  their  speed  nearly 
the  same.  The  Dresden  was  the  fastest  as  she 
was  the  newest,  a  sister  of  the  famous  Emden. 
None  of  the  German  light  cruisers  was  so  fast  or 
so  powerful  as  the  Glasgow,  but  together  they 
were  much  more  than  a  match  for  her,  just  as 
the  Scharnhorst  and  Gneisenau  together  were  more 
than  a  match  for  the  Good  Hope  and  Monmouth. 
When,  therefore,  von  Spee  found  himself  opposed 
to  the  British  armoured  cruisers  he  was 
under  no  anxiety;  he  had  the  heels  of  them  and 
the  guns  of  them;  they  could  neither  fight  success- 
fully with  him  nor  escape  from  him.  The  speedy 
Glasgow  might  escape — as  in  fact  she  did — but 
the  Good  Hope  and  the  Monmouth  were  doomed 
from  the  moment  when  the  action  was  joined. 

I  have  dwelt  upon  the  characteristics  of  the 
rival  squadrons  at  the  risk  of  being  wearisome 
since  an  understanding  of  their  qualities  is  essential 
to  an  understanding  of  the  action. 


138  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

On  October  31st,  the  Glasgow  put  into  Coronel, 
a  small  coaling  port  near  Concepcion  and  to  the 
south  of  Valparaiso,  which  had  become  von  Spec's 
unofficial  base.  He  did  not  remain  in  territorial 
waters  for  more  than  twenty-four  hours  at  a  time, 
but  he  got  what  he  liked  from  German  ships  in 
the  harbour.  The  Glasgow  kept  in  wireless  touch 
with  the  Good  Hope  and  Monmouth,  which  were 
some  fifty  miles  out  at  sea  to  the  west,  and  von 
Spec  picked  up  enough  from  the  English  wireless 
to  know  that  one  of  our  cruisers  was  at  Coronel. 
At  once  he  despatched  the  Nurriberg  to  shadow 
the  Glasgow,  to  stroll  as  it  were  unostentatiously 
past  the  little  harbour,  while  he  with  the  rest  of 
the  squadron  stayed  out  of  sight  to  the  north. 
In  the  morning  of  November  1st  out  came  the 
Glasgow  and  made  for  the  rendezvous  where  she 
was  to  join  the  other  cruisers  and  the  Otranto, 
an  armed  liner  by  which  they  were  accompanied. 
The  wireless  signals  passing  between  the  watching 
Nurnberg  and  von  Spee  were  in  their  turn  picked 
up  by  the  Good  Hope,  so  that  each  squadron  then 
knew  that  an  enemy  was  not  far  off.  Cradock, 
an  English  seaman  of  the  fighting  type,  deter- 
mined to  seek  out  the  Germans,  though  he  must 
have  suspected  their  superiority  of  force.  Neither 
side  actually  knew  the  strength  of  the  other. 
Cradock  spread  out  his  vessels  fan-wise  in  the 
early  afternoon  and  ordered  them  to  steam  in  this 
fashion  at  fifteen  knots  to  the  north-east. 

At  twenty  minutes  past  four  the  nearest  ships 
on  either  side  began  to  sight  one  another,  and 
until  they  did  so  Cradock  had  no  knowledge  that 
he  had  knocked  up  against  the  whole  of  the  German 
Pacific  Squadron.  The  German  concentration  had 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 


139 


THE   SOUTH   SEAS. 


140  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

been  effected  secretly  and  most  successfully.  When 
the  Scharnhorst,  von  Spec's  flagship,  first  saw  the 
Glasgow  and  Monmouth  they  were  far  off  to  the 
west-south-west  and  had  to  wait  for  more  than 
half  an  hour  until  the  Good  Hope,  which  was  still 
farther  out  to  the  west,  could  join  hands  with  them. 
Meanwhile  the  German  ships,  which  were  also 
spread  out,  had  concentrated  on  the  Scharnhorst. 
They  were  the  Gneisenau,  Dresden,  and  Leipzig, 
for  the  Nurnberg  had  not  returned  from  her  watch- 
ing duties.  Cradock,  who  saw  at  once  that  the 
Germans  were  getting  between  his  ships  and  the 
Chilian  coast,  and  that  he  would  be  at  a  grave 
disadvantage  by  being  silhouetted  against  the 
western  sky,  tried  to  work  in  towards  the  land. 
But  von  Spee,  grasping  his  enemy's  purpose,  set 
the  Scharnhorst  and  Gneisenau  going  at  twenty 
knots  due  south  against  a  heavy  sea  and  forced 
himself  between  Cradock  and  the  coast.  When 
the  two  light  cruisers  drew  up,  the  four  German 
ships  fell  into  line  parallel  with  the  English  cruisers 
and  between  them  and  the  land.  All  these  pre- 
liminary manoeuvres  were  put  through  while  the 
two  squadrons  were  still  twelve  miles  apart,  and 
they  determined  the  issue  of  the  subsequent  action. 
For  von  Spee,  having  thrust  the  English  against 
the  background  of  the  declining  sun  and  being 
able,  with  his  greater  speed,  to  hold  them  in  this 
position  and  to  decide  absolutely  the  moment 
when  the  firing  should  begin,  had  effectively  won 
the  action  before  a  shot  had  been  fired.  So  long 
as  the  sun  was  above  the  horizon  the  German 
ships  were  lighted  up  and  would  have  made 
admirable  marks  could  Cradock  have  got  within 
range.  But  von  Spee  had  no  intention  of  letting 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  141 

him  get  within  range  until  the  sun  had  actually 
set  and  had  ceased  to  give  light  to  Cradock's 
gunners.  His  own  men  for  an  hour  afterwards 
could  see  the  English  ships  standing  out  as  clearly 
as  black  paper  outlines  stuck  upon  a  yellow  canvas 
screen.  "I  had  manoeuvred,"  wrote  von  Spee 
to  a  friend,  on  the  day  following  the  action,  "so 
that  the  sun  in  the  west  could  not  disturb  me.  .  .  . 
When  we  were  about  five  miles  off  I  ordered  the 
firing  to  commence.  The  battle  had  begun,  and 
with  a  few  changes,  of  course,  I  led  the  line  quite 
calmly."  He  might  well  be  calm.  The  greater 
speed  of  his  squadron  had  enabled  him  to  out- 
manoeuvre the  English  ships,  and  to  wait  until 
the  sunset  gave  him  a  perfect  mark  and  the  English 
no  mark  at  all.  He  might  well  be  calm.  Dark- 
ness everywhere,  except  in  the  western  sky  behind 
Cradock's  ships,  came  down  very  quickly,  the 
nearly  full  moon  was  not  yet  up,  the  night  was  fine 
except  for  scuds  of  rain  at  intervals.  Between 
seven  and  eight  o'clock — between  sunset  and 
moonrise — von  Spee  had  a  full  hour  in  which  to 
do  his  work,  and  he  made  the  fullest  use  of  the 
time.  At  three  minutes  past  seven  he  began  to 
fire,  when  the  range  was  between  five  and  six 
miles,  and  he  hit  the  Good  Hope  at  the  second  salvo. 
His  consort  the  Gneisenau  did  the  same  with  the 
Monmouth.  It  was  fine  shooting,  but  not  extraor- 
dinary, for  the  German  cruisers  were  crack  ships 
and  the  marks  were  perfect.  At  the  third  salvo 
both  the  Good  Hope  and  Monmouth  burst  into 
flames  forrard,  and  remained  on  fire,  for  German 
shell  rained  on  them  continually.  They  could 
rarely  see  to  reply  and  never  replied  effectively. 
The  Good  Hope's  lower  deck  guns  were  smothered 


142  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

by  the  sea  and  were,  for  all  practical  purposes, 
out  of  action.  Yet  they  fought  as  best  they  could. 
Von  Spee  slowly  closed  in  and  the  torrent  of  heavy 
shell  became  more  and  more  bitter.  We  have  no 
record  of  the  action  from  the  Good  Hope  and 
Monmouth,  for  not  a  man  was  saved  from  either 
ship.  The  Glasgow,  which,  after  the  Otranto  had 
properly  made  off  early  in  the  action — she  was  not 
built  for  hot  naval  work — had  both  the  Dresden 
and  the  Leipzig  to  look  after,  could  tell  only  of 
her  own  experiences.  Captain  Luce  in  quiet  sea 
service  fashion  has  brought  home  to  us  what 
they  were.  "Though  it  was  most  trying  to  receive 
a  great  volume  of  fire  without  a  chance  of  returning 
it  adequately,  all  kept  perfectly  cool,  there  was 
no  wild  firing,  and  discipline  was  the  same  as  at 
battle  practice.  When  a  target  ceased  to  be 
visible  gunlayers  simultaneously  ceased  fire."  Yet 
the  crews  of  active  ratings  and  reservists  strug- 
gled gamely  to  the  end.  It  came  swiftly  and 
mercifully. 

We  have  detailed  accounts  of  the  action  from 
the  German  side,  of  which  the  best  was  written 
by  von  Spee  himself  on  the  following  day.  There 
is  nothing  of  boasting  or  vainglory  about  his  simple 
story:  though  the  man  was  German  he  seems  to 
have  been  white  all  through.  I  have  heard  much 
of  him  from  those  who  knew  him  intimately,  and 
willingly  accept  his  narrative  as  a  plain  statement 
of  fact.  Given  the  conditions,  the  speed  and 
powers  of  the  opposing  squadrons,  the  skilful 
preliminary  manoeuvres  of  von  Spee  before  a  shot 
was  fired,  and  the  veil  of  darkness  which  hid  the 
German  ships  from  the  luckless  English  gunners, 
the  result,  as  von  Spee  reveals  it,  was  inevitable. 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  143 

He  held  his  fire  until  after  sunset,  and  then  closing 
in  to  about  10,000  yards — a  little  over  five  miles — 
gave  the  order  to  begin.  He  himself  led  the  line 
in  the  Scharnhorst  and  engaged  the  Good  Hope, 
the  Gneisenau  following  him  took  the  Monmouth 
as  her  opposite  number.  The  Leipzig  engaged 
the  Glasgow,  and  the  Dresden  the  Otranto.  The 
shell  from  the  8.2-inch  batteries  of  the  German 
armoured  cruisers — each  could  use  six  guns  on  a 
broadside — got  home  at  the  second  salvo  and  the 
range  was  kept  without  apparent  difficulty.  The 
fires  which  almost  immediately  broke  out  in 
the  Good  Hope  and  Monmouth  gave  much  aid  to  the 
German  gunners,  who,  when  the  quick  darkness  of 
the  southern  night  came  down,  were  spared  the 
use  of  their  searchlights.  "As  the  two  big  enemy 
ships  were  in  flames,"  writes  one  careful  German 
observer,  "we  were  able  to  economise  our  search- 
lights." Then,  closing  in  to  about  5,000  yards, 
von  Spee  poured  in  a  terrific  fire  so  rapid  and 
sustained  that  he  shot  away  nearly  half  his  am- 
munition. After  fifty-two  minutes  from  the  firing 
of  the  first  shell  the  Good  Hope  blew  up.  *  "  She 
looked,"  wrote  von  Spee,  "like  a  splendid  fire- 
work display  against  a  dark  sky.  The  glowing 
white  flames,  mingled  with  bright  green  stars, 
shot  up  to  a  great  height."  Cradock's  flagship 
then  sank,  though  von  Spee  thought  for  long 
afterwards  that  she  was  still  afloat.  The  Otranto 
had  made  her  escape,  but  the  Monmouth,  which 
could  not  get  away,  and  the  Glasgow — which  at 
any  moment  could  have  shown  the  enemy  her  heels 
— still  continued  the  unequal  fight.  The  night 
had  become  quite  dark,  the  flames  hi  the  Mon- 
mouth had  burned  out  or  been  extinguished,  and 


144  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

the  Germans  had  lost  sight  of  their  prey.  The 
Scharnhorst  and  Gneisenau  worked  round  to  the 
south,  and  the  Leipzig  and  Dresden  were  sent  curv- 
ing to  the  north  and  west,  in  order  to  keep  the 
English  ships  away  from  the  shelter  of  the  land. 
Just  then  the  light  cruiser  Nurnberg,  which  had  been 
sent  upon  the  scouting  expedition  of  which  I 
have  told,  arrived  upon  the  scene  of  action  and 
encountered  the  crippled  Monmouth.  Had  the 
English  cruiser  been  undamaged,  she  could  soon 
have  disposed  of  this  new  combatant,  but  she  was 
listing  heavily  and  unable  to  use  her  guns.  Run- 
ning up  close  the  Nurnberg  poured  in  a  broadside 
which  sent  the  Monmouth  to  the  bottom.  The 
Glasgow,  badly  damaged  above  water,  but  still 
full  of  speed  and  mettle,  could  do  no  more.  The 
big  German  cruisers  were  coming  up.  Her  cap- 
tain took  the  only  possible  course.  Shortly  before 
the  stricken  Monmouth  disappeared  under  the 
waves  he  made  off  at  full  speed. 

No  one  was  picked  up,  either  from  the  Good 
Hope  or  the  Monmouth.  Von  Spec,  who  was  not 
the  man  to  neglect  the  rescue  of  his  drowning 
enemies,  gives  an  explanation.  He  was  far  from 
the  Good  Hope  when  she  blew  up,  but  the  Nurnberg 
was  quite  close  to  the  foundering  Monmouth; 
why  was  no  attempt  made  at  rescue  in  her  case 
at  least?  It  was  dark  and  there  was  a  heavy  sea 
running,  but  the  risks  of  a  rescue  are  not  sufficient 
to  excuse  the  absence  of  any  attempt.  The  Nurn- 
berg had  not  been  in  the  main  action,  she  was 
flying  up,  knowing  nothing  of  what  had  occurred, 
when  she  met  and  sank  the  Monmouth.  Her 
captain  saw  other  big  ships  approaching  and 
thought  that  one  of  them  was  the  Good  Hope. 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  145 

This  is  von  Spec's  excuse  for  the  omission  of  his 
subordinate  to  put  out  boats — or  even  life  lines — 
but  one  suspects  that  the  captain  of  the  Nurnberg 
had  a  bad  quarter  of  an  hour  when  next  he  met 
his  chief. 

The  German  squadron  was  undamaged,  scarcely 
touched.  Three  men  were  wounded  by  splinters 
in  the  Gneisenau.  That  is  the  whole  casualty  list. 
One  6-inch  shell  went  through  the  deck  of  the 
Scharnhorst  but  did  not  explode — the  "creature 
just  lay  down"  and  went  to  sleep.  "It  lay  there," 
writes  von  Spec,  "as  a  kind  of  greeting."  The 
light  German  cruisers  were  not  touched  at  all. 
But  though  the  German  squadron  had  come  through 
the  fight  unharmed,  it  had  ceased  to  be  of  much 
account  in  a  future  battle.  The  silly  bombard- 
ment of  Tahiti,  and  the  action  off  Coronel,  had  so 
depleted  the  once  overflowing  magazines  that  not 
half  the  proper  number  of  rounds  were  left  for 
the  heavy  guns.  No  fresh  supplies  could  be 
obtained.  Von  Spee  could  fight  again,  but  he 
could  not  have  won  again  had  he  been  opposed 
to  much  lighter  metal  than  that  which  overwhelmed 
him  a  few  weeks  later  off  the  Falkland  Islands. 

On  the  second  day  after  the  action  von  Spee 
returned  to  Valparaiso.  Though  his  own  ship 
had  fought  with  the  Good  Hope  and  he  had  seen 
her  blow  up  he  did  not  know  for  certain  what  had 
become  of  her.  This  well  illustrates  the  small 
value  of  observers'  estimates  of  damage  done  to 
opponents  during  the  confusion  of  even  the  simplest 
of  naval  fights.  Distances  are  so  great  and  light 
is  so  variable.  The  destruction  of  the  Monmouth 
was  known,  but  not  that  of  the  Good  Hope.  So 
von  Spee  made  for  Valparaiso  to  find  out  if  the 


146  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

English  flagship  had  sought  shelter  there.  In- 
cidentally he  took  with  him  the  first  news  of  his 
victory,  and  the  large  German  colony  in  the 
Chilian  city  burned  to  celebrate  the  occasion  in 
characteristic  fashion.  But  von  Spee  gave  little 
encouragement.  He  was  under  no  illusions.  He 
fully  realized  the  power  of  the  English  Navy  and 
that  his  own  existence  and  that  of  his  squadron 
would  speedily  be  determined.  He  "absolutely 
refused"  to  be  celebrated  as  national  hero,  and 
at  the  German  club,  where  he  spent  an  hour  and 
a  half,  declined  to  drink  a  toast  directed  in  offensive 
terms  against  his  English  enemies.  In  his  conduct 
of  the  fights  with  our  ships,  in  his  orders,  in  hi? 
private  letters,  Admiral  von  Spee  stands  out  as 
a  simple  honest  gentleman. 

He  was  a  man  not  very  energetic.  Though 
forcible  in  action  and  a  most  skilful  naval  tactician, 
he  does  not  seem  to  have  had  any  plans  for  the 
general  handling  of  his  squadron.  If  an  enemy 
turned  up  he  fought  him,  but  he  did  not  go  out 
of  his  way  to  seek  after  him.  He  dawdled  about 
among  the  Pacific  Islands  during  September  and 
at  Easter  Island  during  most  of  October;  after 
Coronel  he  lingered  in  and  out  of  Valparaiso  doing 
nothing.  He  must  have  known  that  England 
would  not  sit  down  in  idle  lamentation,  but  he 
did  nothing  to  anticipate  and  defeat  her  plans  for 
his  destruction.  His  shortage  of  coal  and  am- 
munition caused  him  to  forbid  the  commerce 
raiding  which  appealed  to  the  officers  of  his  light 
cruisers,  and  probably  the  same  weakness  made 
him  reluctant  to  seek  any  other  adventures.  For 
five  weeks  he  made  no  attempt  even  to  raid  the 
Falkland  Islands,  which  lay  helplessly  expecting 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  147 

his  stroke,  and  when  at  last  he  started  out  by  the 
long  safe  southern  route  round  the  Horn,  it  was 
to  walk  into  the  mouth  of  the  avenging  English 
squadron  which  had  been  gathered  there  to  receive 
hun.  One  thing  is  quite  certain:  he  heard  no 
whisper  of  the  English  plans  and  expected  to  meet 
nothing  at  the  Falkland  Islands  more  formidable 
than  the  Canopus,  the  Glasgow,  and  perhaps  one 
or  two  " County  Class"  cruisers,  such  as  the 
Cornwall  or  Kent.  He  never  expected  to  be 
crunched  in  the  savage  jaws  of  two  battle  cruisers! 
While  this  kindly,  rather  indolent  German  Ad- 
miral was  marking  time  off  the  Chilian  coast,  the 
squadron  which  was  to  avenge  the  blunder  of 
Coronel  was  assembling  from  the  ends  of  the  earth 
towards  the  appointed  rendezvous  off  the  Brazilian 
coast.  The  Bristol,  a  sister  of  the  Glasgow,  had 
come  in  from  a  long  cruise  in  the  West  Indies,  dur- 
ing which  she  had  met  and  exchanged  harmless 
shots  with  another  German  wanderer,  the  Karlsruhe. 
The  Invincible  and  Inflexible  were  racing  down  from 
the  north.  The  Cornwall  and  Kent,  burning  to 
show  that  even  "County"  cruisers  were  not  wholly 
useless  in  battle,  and  the  armoured  cruiser  Car- 
narvon  were  already  in  the  South  Atlantic.  The 
poor  old  Canopus  and  the  Glasgow  had  foregathered 
at  Port  Stanley  in  the  Falkland  Islands  on 
November  8th,  but  were  immediately  ordered 
north  to  Montevideo  to  meet  the  other  cruisers 
on  the  passage  south.  They  left  in  accordance 
with  these  orders,  but  the  Canopus  was  turned 
back  by  wireless,  so  that  Port  Stanley  might  have 
some  naval  protection  against  the  expected  von 
Spee  raid.  Here  the  Canopus  was  put  aground 
in  the  mud,  painted  in  futurist  colours,  and  con- 


148  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

verted  into  a  land  fort.  With  her  four  12-inch 
guns  she  could  at  least  have  made  the  inner  harbour 
impassable  to  the  Germans.  The  Glasgow  docked 
for  repairs  at  Rio,  and  then  joined  the  avenging 
squadron  which  had  concentrated  off  Brazil,  and 
with  them  swept  down  to  the  Falkland  Islands 
which  were  reached  upon  the  evening  of  Decem- 
ber 7th.  All  the  English  ships,  to  which  had  been 
committed  the  destruction  of  von  Spee,  had  then 
arrived.  The  stage  was  set  and  the  curtain  about 
to  go  up  upon  the  second  and  final  act  of  the 
Pacific  drama.  Upon  the  early  morning  of  the 
following  day,  as  if  in  response  to  a  call  by  Fate, 
von  Spee  and  his  squadron  arrived.  After  five 
weeks  of  delay  he  had  at  last  made  up  his  mind  to 
strike. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

IN   THE   SOUTH   SEAS!     CLEANING  UP 

Now  is  the  winter  of  our  discontent 

Made  glorious  summer  .  .  . 

And  all  the  clouds  that  lour'd 

In  the  deep  bosom  of  the  ocean  buried. 

THE  naval  operations  which  culminated  in  the 
action  off  the  Falkland  Islands  are  associated 
vividly  in  my  mind  with  two  little  personal  in- 
cidents. On  November  12th,  1914,  a  week  after 
the  distressful  news  had  reached  this  country  of 
the  destruction  by  the  enemy  of  the  cruisers  Good 
Hope  and  Monmouth  off  the  Chilian  coast,  a  small 
slip  of  paper  was  brought  to  me  in  an  envelope 
which  had  not  passed  through  the  post.  I  will 
not  say  from  whom  or  whence  that  paper  came. 
Upon  it  were  written  these  words:  "The  battle 
cruisers  Invincible  and  Inflexible  have  left  for  the 
South  Atlantic."  That  was  all,  twelve  words, 
but  rarely  has  news  which  meant  so  much  been 
packed  into  so  small  a  space.  The  German  Sea 
Command  would  have  given  a  very  great  deal 
for  the  sight  of  that  scrap  of  paper  which,  when 
read,  I  burned.  For  it  meant  that  two  fast 
battle  cruisers,  each  carrying  eight  12-inch  guns, 
were  at  that  moment  speeding  south  to  dispose 
for  ever  of  von  Spec's  Pacific  Squadron.  The 
battle  cruisers  docked  and  coaled  at  Devonport 

149 


150  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

on  November  9th,  10th  and  llth;  hundreds  of 
humble  folk  like  myself  must  have  known  of  their 
mission  and  its  grim  purpose,  yet  not  then  nor 
afterwards  until  their  work  was  done  did  a  whisper 
of  their  sailing  reach  the  ears  of  Germany. 

The  Invincible  and  Inflexible  coaled  off  St.  Vin- 
cent, Cape  Verde  Islands,  and  again  south  of  the 
Line.  At  the  appointed  rendezvous  off  Brazil  they 
were  joined  by  the  Carnarvon,  Kent,  Cornwall, 
and  Bristol,  the  armed  liner  Orama,  and  many 
colliers.  Weeks  had  passed  and  yet  no  word  of 
the  English  plans,  even  of  the  concentration  in 
force,  reached  von  Spee,  who  still  thought  that 
he  had  nothing  more  formidable  to  deal  with  than 
a  few  light  cruisers  and  the  old  battleship  Canopus. 

Nothing  is  more  difficult  to  kill  than  a  legend, 
and  perhaps  the  most  invulnerable  of  legends  is 
that  one  which  attributes  to  the  German  Secret 
Service  a  superhuman  efficiency.  I  offer  to  the 
still  faithful  English  believers  two  facts  which  in 
a  rational  world  would  blast  that  legend  for  ever: 
the  secret  mission  of  the  Invincible  and  Inflexible 
to  the  Falkland  Islands  in  November-December 
1914,  and  the  silent  transport  of  the  original 
British  Expeditionary  Force  across  the  Channel 
during  the  first  three  weeks  of  war.  And  yet, 
I  suppose,  the  legend  will  survive.  The  strongest 
case,  says  Anatole  France  in  Penguin  Island,  is 
that  which  is  wholly  unsupported  by  evidence. 

The  second  incident  which  sticks  in  my  mind 
was  a  scene  in  a  big  public  hall  on  the  evening  of 
December  9th.  Lord  Rosebery  was  in  the  middle 
of  a  recruiting  speech — chiefly  addressed,  as  he 
plaintively  observed,  to  an  audience  of  baldheads 
— when  there  came  a  sudden  interruption.  Pink 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  151 

newspapers  fluttered  across  the  platform,  the 
coat  tails  of  the  speaker  were  seized,  and  one  of 
the  papers  thrust  into  his  hands.  We  all  waited 
while  Lord  Rosebery  adjusted  his  glasses  and  read 
a  stop-press  message.  What  he  found  there  pleased 
him,  but  he  was  in  no  hurry  to  impart  his  news 
to  us.  He  smiled  benevolently  at  our  impatience, 
and  deliberately  worked  us  up  to  the  desired 
pitch  of  his  dramatic  intensity.  Then  at  last  he 
stepped  forward  and  read: 

"At  7.30  a.m.  on  December  8th  the  Scharnhorst, 
the  Gneisenau,  the  Nurnberg,  the  Leipzig,  and  the 
Dresden  were  sighted  near  the  Falkland  Islands 
by  a  British  Squadron  under  Vice-Admiral  Sir 
Frederick  Sturdee.  An  action  followed  hi  the 
course  of  which  the  Scharnhorst  (flying  the  flag  of 
Admiral  Graf  von  Spee),  the  Gneisenau,  and  the 
Leipzig  were  .  .  .  sunk." 

At  that  word,  pronounced  with  tremendous 
emphasis,  6,000  people  jumped  to  their  feet; 
they  shouted,  they  cheered,  they  stamped  upon 
the  floor,  they  sang  "Rule  Britannia"  till  the 
walls  swayed  and  the  roof  shuddered  upon  its 
joists.  It  was  a  scene  less  of  exultation  than  of 
relief,  relief  that  the  faith  of  the  British  people 
in  the  long  arm  of  the  Royal  Navy  had  been  so 
fully  justified.  Cradock  and  the  gallant  dead  of 
Coronel  had  been  avenged.  The  mess  had  been 
cleaned  up. 

"I  thought,"  said  Lord  Rosebery,  as  soon  as 
the  tumult  had  died  down,  "I  thought  that  would 
wake  you  up." 


At  Devonport  the  Invincible  and  Inflexible  had 


152  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

been  loaded  "to  the  utmost  capacity,"  not  only 
with  stores  and  ammunition  for  their  own  use,  but 
with  supplies  to  replenish  the  depleted  magazines 
of  their  future  consorts.  They  steamed  easily 
well  out  of  sight  of  land,  except  when  they  put  in 
to  coal  off  St.  Vincent,  and  made  the  trip  of  4,000 
miles  to  the  rendezvous  near  the  Line  in  a  little 
over  fourteen  days.  They  cleared  the  Sound  in 
the  evening  of  November  llth,  and  found  the 
other  cruisers  I  have  mentioned  awaiting  them 
at  the  appointed  rendezvous  off  the  Brazilian  coast 
in  the  early  morning  of  November  26th.  Two 
days  passed,  days  of  sweltering  tropic  heat,  during 
which  the  stores,  brought  by  the  battle  cruisers, 
were  parcelled  out  among  the  other  ships  and 
coal  was  taken  in  by  all  the  ships  from  the  attend- 
ant colliers.  The  speed  of  a  far-cruising  squadron 
is  determined  absolutely  by  its  coal  supplies. 
When  voracious  eaters  of  coal  like  battle  cruisers 
undertake  long  voyages,  it  behoves  them  to  cut 
their  fighting  speed  of  some  twenty-eight  knots 
down  to  a  cruising  speed  of  about  one-half.  By 
the  morning  of  Saturday,  November  28th,  the  now 
concentrated  and  fully  equipped  avenging  Squadron 
was  ready  for  its  last  lap  of  2,500  miles  to  the 
Falkland  Islands.  The  English  vessels,  spread 
out  in  a  huge  fan,  swept  down,  continually  search- 
ing for  the  enemy  off  the  coasts  of  South  America, 
where  rumour  hinted  that  he  had  taken  refuge. 
The  several  ships  steamed  within  the  extreme 
range  of  visible  signalling — so  that  no  tell-tale 
wireless  waves  might  crackle  forth  warnings  to 
von  Spec.  It  was  high  summer  in  the  south 
and  the  weather  glorious,  though  the  temperature 
steadily  fell  as  the  chilly  solitudes  of  the  Falklands 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  153 

were  approached.  No  Germans  were  sighted, 
and  the  Falkland  Islands  were  reached  before 
noon  on  December  7th.  The  Squadron  had 
already  been  met  at  the  rendezvous  and  joined 
by  the  light  cruiser  Glasgow.  The  old  Canopus, 
so  slow  and  useless  as  a  battleship  that  she  had 
been  put  aground  on  the  mud  of  the  inner  harbour 
(Port  Stanley)  to  protect  the  little  settlement  there, 
was  found  at  her  useful  but  rather  inglorious  post. 
Most  of  the  vessels  anchored  in  the  large  outer 
harbour  (Port  William)  and  coaling  was  begun  at 
once,  but  though  it  was  continued  at  dawn  of 
the  following  day  it  was  not  then  destined  to  be 
completed. 

Up  to  this  moment  the  plans  of  Whitehall  had 
worked  to  perfection.  The  two  great  battle 
cruisers  had  arrived  at  the  rendezvous  from 
England,  the  Squadron  had  secretly  concentrated 
and  then  searched  the  South  Atlantic,  the  Falkland 
Islands  had  been  secured  from  a  successful  surprise 
attack  which  would  have  given  much  joy  to  our 
enemies,  yet  not  a  whisper  of  his  fast-approaching 
doom  had  sped  over  the  ether  to  von  Spee. 
Throughout  the  critical  weeks  of  our  activity  he 
had  dawdled  irresolutely  off  Valparaiso.  All  our 
ships  were  ready  for  battle,  even  the  light  cruiser 
Glasgow,  so  heavily  battered  in  the  Coronel  action 
that  her  inside  had  been  built  up  with  wooden 
shores  till  it  resembled  the  "Epping  Forest,"  after 
which  the  lower  deck  had  christened  it,  and  she 
had  a  hole  as  big  as  a  church  door  in  one  side 
above  the  water-line.  She  had  steamed  to  Rio 
in  this  unhappy  plight  and  had  been  there  well 
and  faithfully  repaired.  Captain  Luce  and  his 
men  were  full  of  fight;  they  had  then*  hurts  and 


154  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

their  humiliation  to  avenge  and  meant  to  get 
their  own  back  with  interest.  They  did;  their 
chance  came  upon  the  following  day,  and  they 
used  it  to  the  full. 

Whitehall  had  done  its  best,  and  now  came  a 
benevolent  Joss  to  put  the  crowning  seal  upon  its 
work.  Coronel  was  bad  black  Joss,  but  the  Falk- 
land Islands  will  go  down  to  history  as  a  shining 
example  of  the  whiteness  of  the  Navy's  good  Joss 
when  in  a  mood  of  real  benignity.  We  desired 
two  things  to  round  off  the  scheme  roughed  out 
at  the  Admiralty  on  November  6th:  we  wanted 
— though  it  was  the  last  thing  which  we  expected 
— we  wanted  the  German  Pacific  Squadron  to 
walk  into  the  trap  which  had  so  daintily  been 
prepared,  and  they  came  immediately,  on  the 
very  first  morning  after  our  arrival  at  the  Falkland 
Islands,  at  the  actual  moment  when  Vice-Admiral 
Sturdee  and  Rear-Admiral  Stoddart  (of  the  Car- 
narvon), with  heads  bent  over  a  big  chart,  were 
discussing  plans  of  search.  They  might  have 
come  and  played  havoc  with  the  Islands  on  any 
morning  during  the  previous  five  weeks,  yet  they 
did  not  come  until  December  8th,  when  we  were 
just  ready  and  most  heartily  anxious  to  receive 
them  hospitably.  We  wanted  a  fine  clear  day 
with  what  the  Navy  calls  "full  visibility."  We 
got  it  on  December  8th.  And  this  was  a  very 
wonderful  thing,  for  the  Falkland  Islands  are 
cursed  with  a  vile  cold  climate,  almost  as  cold 
in  the  summer  of  December  as  hi  the  winter  of 
June.  It  rains  there  about  230  days  in  the  year, 
and  even  when  the  rain  does  not  fall  fog  is  far 
more  frequent  than  sunshine.  The  climate  of  the 
Falklands  is  even  some  points  more  forbidding 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  155 

than  the  dreadful  climate  of  Lewis  in  the  Hebrides, 
which  it  closely  resembles.  Yet  now  and  then, 
at  rare  intervals,  come  gracious  days,  and  one  of 
them,  the  best  of  the  year,  dawned  upon  December 
8th.  The  air  was  bright  and  clear,  visibility  was 
at  its  maximum,  the  sea  was  calm,  and  a  light 
breeze  blew  gently  from  the  north-west.  Our 
gunners  had  a  full  view  to  the  horizon  and  a 
kindly  swell  to  swing  the  gunsights  upon  their 
marks.  For  Sturdee  and  his  gunners  it  was  a 
day  of  days.  Had  von  Spee  come  upon  a  wet 
and  dull  morning  all  would  have  been  spoiled;  he 
could  have  got  away,  his  squadron  could  have 
scattered,  and  we  should  have  had  many  weary 
weeks  of  search  before  compassing  his  destruction. 
But  he  came  upon  the  one  morning  of  the  year 
when  we  were  ready  for  him  and  the  perfect 
weather  conditions  made  escape  impossible.  Our 
gunnery  officers  from  their  spotting  tops  could 
see  as  far  as  even  the  great  12-inch  guns  could 
shoot.  When  the  Fates  mean  real  business  there 
is  no  petty  higgling  about  their  methods;  they 
ladle  out  Luck  not  in  spoonfuls  but  with  shovels. 
The  Squadron  which  had  come  so  far  to  clean 
up  the  mess  of  Coronel  was  commanded  by  Vice- 
Admiral  Sir  F.  C.  Doveton  Sturdee,  who  had  been 
plucked  out  of  his  office  chair  at  the  Admiralty 
— he  was  Director  of  Naval  Intelligence — and 
thrown  up  upon  the  quarter-deck  of  the  Invincible. 
He  was  the  right  man  for  the  job,  a  cool-headed 
scientific  sailor  who  would  make  full  use  of  the 
power  and  speed  of  his  big  ships  and  yet  run  no 
risk  of  suffering  severe  damage  thousands  of  miles 
away  from  a  repairing  base.  Those  who  criticise 
his  leisurely  deliberation  in  the  action,  and  the 


156  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

long-range  fighting  tactics  which  dragged  out  the 
death  agony  of  the  Scharnhorst  for  three  and  a 
half  hours  and  of  the  Gneisenau  for  five,  forget 
that  to  Sturdee  an  hour  or  two  of  time,  and  a 
hundred  or  two  rounds  of  heavy  shell,  were  as 
nothing  when  set  against  the  possibility  of  damage 
to  his  battle  cruisers.  His  business  was  to  sink 
a  very  capable  and  well-armed  enemy  at  the 
minimum  of  risk  to  his  own  ships,  and  so  he 
determined  to  fight  at  a  range — on  the  average 
about  16,000  yards  (9|  land  miles) — which  made 
his  gunnery  rather  ineffective  and  wasteful,  yet 
certain  to  achieve  its  purpose  in  course  of  time. 

Just  as  von  Spee  at  Coronel,  having  the  advan- 
tage of  greater  speed  and  greater  power,  could 
do  what  he  pleased  with  the  Good  Hope  and  Mon- 
mouth,  so  Sturdee  with  his  battle  cruisers  could  do 
what  he  pleased  with  von  Spee.  The  Invincible 
and  Inflexible  could  steam  at  twenty-eight  knots 
— they  were  clean  ships — while  the  Scharnhorst 
and  the  Gneisenau,  now  five  months  out  of  dock, 
could  raise  little  more  than  twenty.  The  superior- 
ity of  the  English  battle  cruisers  in  guns  was  no 
less  than  in  speed.  Each  carried  eight  12-inch 
guns,  firing  a  shell  of  850  lb.,  while  von  Spec's 
two  armoured  cruisers  were  armed  with  eight 
8.2-inch  guns,  firing  shell  of  275  lb.  Sturdee, 
with  his  great  advantage  of  speed,  could  set  the 
range  outside  the  effective  capacity  of  von  Spec's 
guns,  secure  against  anything  but  an  accidental 
plunging  shot  upon  his  decks,  while  the  light 
German  6-inch  armour  upon  sides  and  barbettes 
was  little  protection  against  his  own  12-inch 
armour-piercing  shell.  Sturdee  could  keep  his 
distance  and  pound  von  Spee  to  bits  at  leisure. 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  157 

The  "visibility"  was  perfect,  space  was  unlimited, 
the  Germans  had  no  port  of  refuge,  and  from  dawn 
to  sunset  Sturdee  had  sixteen  hours  of  working 
daylight.  He  was  in  no  hurry,  though  one  may 
doubt  if  he  expected  to  take  so  unconscionable 
a  time  as  three  and  a  half  hours  to  sink  the  Scham- 
horst  and  five  hours  to  dispose  of  the  Gneisenau. 
It  was  not  that  Sturdee's  gunnery  was  bad — 
relatively,  that  is,  to  the  gunnery  of  other  ships 
or  of  other  navies.  The  word  bad  suggests  blame. 
But  it  was  certainly  ineffective.  After  the  Falk- 
land Islands  action,  and  after  those  running 
fights  in  the  North  Sea  between  battle  cruisers,  it 
became  dreadfully  clear  that  naval  gunnery  is 
still  in  its  infancy.  All  the  brains  and  patience 
and  mechanical  ingenuity  which  have  been  lavished 
upon  the  problem  of  how  to  shoot  accurately  from 
a  rapidly  moving  platform  at  a  rapidly  moving 
object,  all  the  appliances  for  range-finding  and 
range-keeping  and  spotting,  leave  a  margin  of 
guesswork  in  the  shooting,  which  is  a  good  deal 
bigger  than  the  width  of  the  target  fired  at.  The 
ease  and  accuracy  of  land  gunnery  in  contrast 
with  the  supreme  difficulty  and  relative  inaccuracy 
of  sea  gunnery  were  brought  vividly  before  me 
once  in  conversation  with  a  highly  skilled  naval 
gunner.  "Take  a  rook  rifle,"  said  he,  "put  up 
a  target  upon  a  tree,  measure  out  a  distance,  sit 
down,  and  fire.  You  will  get  on  to  your  target 
after  two  or  three  shots  and  then  hit  it  five  times 
out  of  six.  You  will  be  a  land  gunner  with  his 
fixed  guns,  his  observation  posts,  his  aeroplanes 
or  kite  balloons,  his  maps  upon  which  he  can 
measure  up  his  ranges.  Then  get  into  a  motor- 
car with  your  rook  rifle,  get  a  friend  to  drive  you 


158  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

rapidly  along  a  country  road,  and  standing  up 
try  what  sport  you  make  of  hitting  the  rabbits 
which  are  running  and  jumping  about  in  the  fields. 
That,  exaggerated  a  bit  perhaps,  is  sea  gunnery. 
We  know  our  own  speed  and  our  own  course, 
but  we  don't  know  exactly  either  the  enemy's 
speed  or  the  enemy's  course;  we  have  to  estimate 
both.  As  he  varies  his  course  and  his  speed — 
he  does  both  constantly — he  throws  out  our  cal- 
culations. It  all  comes  down  to  range-finding 
and  spotting,  trial  and  error.  Can  you  be  sur- 
prised that  naval  gunnery,  measured  by  land 
standards,  is  wasteful  and  ineffective?"  "No," 
said  I,  "I  am  surprised  that  you  ever  hit  at  all." 


The  English  Squadron  began  to  coal  at  half- 
past  three  upon  that  bright  summer  morning  of 
December  8th,  and  the  grimy  operation  proceeded 
vigorously  until  eight  o'clock,  when  there  came 
a  sudden  and  most  welcome  interruption.  Columns 
of  smoke  were  observed  far  away  to  the  south- 
east, and,  presently,  the  funnels  of  two  approaching 
vessels  were  made  out.  There  were  three  others 
whose  upper  works  had  not  yet  shown  above  the 
horizon.  Coaling  was  at  once  stopped  and  steam 
raised  to  full  pressure.  Never  have  our  engineer 
staffs  more  splendidly  justified  their  advance  in 
official  status  than  upon  that  day.  Not  only  did 
they  get  their  boilers  and  engines  ready  in  the 
shortest  possible  time,  but,  in  the  subsequent 
action,  they  screwed  out  of  their  ships  a  knot  or 
two  more  of  speed  than  they  had  any  right  to  do. 
The  action  was  gained  by  speed  and  gun  power; 
without  the  speed — the  speed  of  clean-bottomed 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  159 

ships  against  those  which,  after  five  months  at 
sea,  had  become  foul — the  power  of  the  great 
guns  could  not  have  been  fully  developed.  So, 
when  we  remember  Sturdee  and  his  master  gunners 
and  gunnery  officers  in  the  turrets  and  aloft  in 
the  spotting  tops,  let  us  also  remember  the  master 
engineers  hidden  out  of  sight  far  below  who  gave 
to  the  gunners  their  opportunity. 

The  battle  cruisers,  whose  presence  it  was  desired 
to  conceal  until  the  latest  moment,  poured  oil 
upon  their  furnaces  and,  veiled  in  clouds  of  the 
densest  smoke,  awaited  the  rising  of  the  pressure 
gauges.  In  the  outer  harbour  the  light  cruisers 
collected,  and  from  her  immovable  position  upon 
the  mud-banks  the  old  Canopus  loosed  a  couple 
of  pot  shots  from  her  big  guns  at  the  distant 
German  at  a  range  of  six  miles.  Admiral  Graf 
von  Spee  and  his  merry  men  laughed — they  knew 
all  about  the  Canopus.  Then,  when  all  was 
ready,  the  indomitable  Glasgow,  the  Kent  (own 
sister  to  the  sunken  Monmouth),  and  the  armoured 
Carnarvon  issued  forth  to  battle.  In  the  words 
of  an  eye-witness,  later  a  prisoner,  "The  Germans 
laughed  till  their  sides  ached."  A  few  more 
minutes  passed,  and  then,  from  under  the  cover 
of  the  smoke  and  the  low  fringes  of  the  harbour, 
steamed  grandly  out  the  Invincible  and  Inflexible, 
cleared  for  action,  their  huge  turrets  fore  and  aft 
and  upon  either  beam  bristling  with  the  long 
12-inch  guns,  their  turbines  working  at  the  fullest 
pressure,  the  flag  of  Vice-Admiral  Sturdee  flutter- 
ing aloft.  There  was  no  more  German  laughter. 
Von  Spee  and  his  officers  and  men  were  gallant 
enemies,  they  saw  instantly  the  moment  the 
battle  cruisers  issued  forth,  overwhelming  in  their 


160  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

speed  and  power,  that  for  themselves  and  for  their 
squadron  the  sun  had  risen  for  the  last  time. 
They  had  come  for  sport,  the  easy  capture  of  the 
Falkland  Islands,  but  sport  had  turned  upon  the 
instant  of  staggering  surprise  to  tragedy;  nothing 
remained  but  to  fight  and  to  die  as  became  gallant 
seamen.  And  so  they  fought,  and  so  they  died, 
all  but  a  few  whom  we,  more  merciful  than  the 
Germans  themselves  at  Coronel,  plucked  from  the 
cold  sea  after  the  sinking  of  their  ships. 

The  German  Squadron — the  two  armoured 
cruisers  Scharnhorst  and  Gneisenau,  each  with 
eight  8. 2-inch  guns,  and  the  three  light  cruisers 
Nurnberg,  Dresden,  and  Leipzig,  each  armed  with 
ten  4.1-inch  guns — made  off  at  full  speed,  and 
for  awhile  the  English  Squadron  followed  at  the 
leisurely  gait  for  the  battle  cruisers  of  about 
twenty  knots  so  as  to  keep  together.  It  was  at 
once  apparent  that  our  ships  had  the  legs  of  the 
enemy,  and  could  catch  them  when  they  pleased 
and  could  fight  at  any  range  and  in  any  position 
which  they  chose  to  select.  That  is  the  crushing 
advantage  of  speed;  when  to  speed  is  added  gun 
power  a  fleeing  enemy  has  no  chance  at  all,  if 
no  port  of  refuge  be  available  for  him.  In  weight 
and  power  of  guns  there  was  no  possible  com- 
parison. The  Invincible  and  Inflexible,  which 
had  descended  from  the  far  north  to  swab  up  the 
mess  of  Coronel,  were  at  least  three  times  as 
powerful  as  the  Scharnhorst  and  Gneisenau,  crack 
gunnery  ships  though  they  might  be.  Their 
12-inch  guns  could  shoot  with  ease  and  with 
sufficient  accuracy  for  their  purpose  at  a  range 
beyond  the  full  stretch  of  the  German  8.2-inch 
weapons  however  deftly  they  might  be  handled. 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  161 

Their  10-inch  armour  upon  the  turrets  and  conning- 
tower  was  invulnerable  against  chance  hits  when 
closing  in,  and  the  armoured  decks  covering  their 
inner  vitals  were  practicably  impenetrable.  The 
chances  of  disaster  were  reduced  almost  to  nothing- 
ness by  Sturdee's  tactics  of  the  waiting  game. 
When  at  length  he  gave  the  order  to  open  fire 
he  kept  out  at  a  distance  which  made  the  per- 
centage of  his  hits  small,  yet  still  made  those 
hits  which  he  brought  off  tremendously  effective. 
A  bursting  charge  of  lyddite  in  the  open  may 
do  little  damage,  even  that  contained  in  a  12-inch 
shell,  but  the  same  charge  exploded  within  the 
decks  of  a  cruiser  is  multiplied  tenfold  in  destruc- 
tiveness. 

Presently  the  German  Squadron  divided,  the 
enemy  light  cruisers  and  attendant  transports 
seeking  safety  in  flight  from  our  light  cruisers 
despatched  in  chase  while  the  armoured  cruisers 
held  on  pursued  by  the  two  battle  cruisers  and 
the  armoured  Carnarvon,  whose  ten  guns  were  of 
7.5-  and  6-inch  calibre.  The  Carnarvon,  light 
though  she  was  by  comparison  with  the  battle 
cruisers,  did  admirable  and  accurate  work,  and 
proved  in  the  action  to  be  by  no  means  a  negligi- 
ble consort.  There  was  no  hurry.  A  wide  ocean 
lay  before  the  rushing  vessels,  the  enemy  had  no 
opportunity  of  escape  so  long  as  the  day  held 
clear  and  fine,  and  the  English  ships  could  close 
in  or  open  out  exactly  as  they  pleased.  During 
most  of  the  fight  which  followed  the  Invincible 
and  Inflexible  steered  upon  courses  approximately 
parallel  with  those  of  the  Germans,  following  them 
as  they  dodged  and  winded  like  failing  hares, 
always  maintaining  that  dominating  position  which 


162  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

in  these  days  of  steam  corresponds  with  Nelson's 
weather  gauge.  It  followed  from  their  position 
as  the  chasers  that  they  could  not  each  use  more 
than  six  guns,  but  this  was  more  than  compen- 
sated for  by  the  enemy's  inability  to  use  more 
than  four  of  his  heavier  guns  in  the  Scharnhorst 
or  Gneisenau. 

I  have  met  and  talked  with  many  naval  officers 
and  men  who  have  been  in  action  during  the 
present  war,  and  have  long  since  ceased  to  put  a 
question  which  received  an  invariable  answer. 
I  used  to  inquire  "Were  you  excited  or  sensibly 
thrilled  either  when  going  into  action  or  after  it 
had  begun?"  This  was  the  substance  though 
not  the  words  of  the  question.  One  does  not  talk 
in  that  land  fashion  with  sailor-men.  The  answer 
was  always  the  same.  "Excited,  thrilled  of 
course  not.  There  was  too  much  to  do."  An 
action  at  sea  is  glorified  drill.  Every  man  knows 
his  job  perfectly  and  does  it  as  perfectly  as  he 
knows  how.  Whether  he  be  an  Admiral  or  a 
ship's  boy  he  attends  to  his  job  and  has  no  time 
to  bother  about  personal  feelings.  Naval  work 
is  team  work,  the  individual  is  nothing,  the  team 
is  everything.  This  is  why  there  is  a  certain 
ritual  and  etiquette  in  naval  honours;  personal 
distinctions  are  very  rare  and  are  never  the  result 
of  self-seeking.  There  is  no  pot-hunting  in  the 
Sea  Service.  Not  only  are  actions  at  sea  free 
from  excitement  or  thrills,  but  for  most  of  those 
who  take  part  in  them  they  are  blind.  Not  one 
in  twenty  of  those  who  fight  in  a  big  ship  see 
anything  at  all — not  even  the  gun-layers,  when  the 
range  is  long  and  they  are  "following  the  Control." 
Calmly  and  blindly  our  men  go  into  action,  calmly 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  163 

and  blindly  they  fight  obeying  exactly  their 
orders,  calmly  and  blindly  when  Fate  wills  they 
go  down  to  their  deaths.  In  their  calmness  and 
in  their  blindness  they  are  the  perfected  fruits  of 
long  centuries  of  naval  discipline.  The  Sea  Service 
has  become  highly  scientific,  yet  in  taste  and  in 
sentiment  it  has  changed  little  since  the  days  of 
Queen  Elizabeth.  The  English  sailor,  then  as 
now,  has  a  catlike  hatred  of  dirt,  and  never  fights 
so  happily  as  when  his  belly  is  well  filled.  The 
officers  and  men  of  the  battle  cruisers  had  been 
coaling  when  the  enemy  so  obligingly  turned  up, 
and  they  had  breakfasted  so  early  that  the  meal 
had  passed  from  their  memories.  There  was 
plenty  of  time  before  firing  could  begin.  So, 
while  the  engineers  sweated  below,  those  with 
more  leisure  scrubbed  the  black  grime  from  their 
skins,  and  changed  into  their  best  and  brightest 
uniforms  to  do  honour  to  a  great  occasion.  Then 
at  noon  "all  hands  went  to  dinner." 


The  big  guns  of  the  battle  cruisers  began  to 
pick  up  the  range  of  the  Scharnhorst  and  Gneisenau 
at  five  minutes  to  one,  three  hours  after  the  chase 
had  begun,  when  the  distance  from  the  enemy's 
armoured  cruisers  was  some  18,000  yards,  say  ten 
land  miles.  And  while  the  huge  shots  fly  forth 
seeking  their  prey,  let  us  visit  in  spirit  for  a  few 
minutes  the  spotting  top  of  the  Invincible,  and 
discover  for  ourselves  how  it  is  possible  to  serve 
great  guns  with  any  approach  to  accuracy,  when 
both  the  pursuing  and  pursued  ships  are  travelling 
at  high  speed  upon  different  courses  during  which 
the  range  and  direction  are  continually  varying. 


164  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

The  Invincible  worked  up  at  one  time  to  twenty- 
nine  knots  (nearly  thirty-four  miles  an  hour), 
though  not  for  long,  since  a  lower  speed  was  better 
suited  to  her  purpose,  and  the  firing  ranges  varied 
from  22,000  yards  down  to  the  comparatively  close 
quarters  of  six  miles,  at  which  the  Scharnhorst 
and,  later,  the  Gneisenau  were  sent  to  the  bottom. 
From  the  decks  of  the  Invincible,  when  the  main 
action  opened,  little  could  be  seen  of  the  chase 
except  columns  of  smoke,  but  from  the  fire  control 
platform  one  could  made  out  through  glasses  the 
funnels  and  most  of  the  upper  works  of  the  German 
cruisers.  At  this  elevation  the  sea  horizon  was 
distant  26,000  yards  (about  15|  land  miles),  and 
upon  the  day  of  the  Falkland  Islands  fight  "visi- 
bility" was  almost  perfect.  When  an  enemy 
ship  can  be  seen,  its  distance  can  be  measured 
within  a  margin  of  error  of  half  of  one  per  cent. — 
fifty  yards  in  ten  thousand;  that  is  not  difficult, 
but  since  both  the  enemy  vessel  and  one's  own 
ship  are  moving  very  fast,  and  courses  are  being 
changed  as  the  enemy  seeks  to  evade  one's  fire 
or  to  direct  more  efficiently  his  own  guns,  the 
varying  ranges  have  to  be  kept,  which  is  much 
more  difficult.  It  follows  that  three  operations 
have  to  be  in  progress  simultaneously,  of  which 
one  is  a  check  upon  and  a  correction  of  the  other 
two.  First,  all  the  range-finders  have  to  be  kept 
going  and  their  readings  compared;  secondly,  the 
course  and  speed  of  one's  own  ship  have  to  be 
registered  with  the  closest  accuracy  and  the 
corresponding  speeds  and  courses  of  the  enemy 
observed  and  estimated;  thirdly,  the  pitching  of 
one's  shots  has  to  be  watched  and  their  errors 
noted  as  closely  as  may  be.  All  this  delicate 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  165 

gunnery  work  is  perfectly  mechanical  but  chiefly 
human.  The  Germans,  essentially  a  mechanically 
inhuman  people,  try  to  carry  the  aid  of  machinery 
farther  than  we  do.  They  fit,  for  example,  a 
gyroscopic  arrangement  which  automatically  fires 
the  guns  at  a  chosen  moment  in  the  roll  of  a  ship. 
We  fire  as  the  roll  brings  the  wires  of  the  sighting 
telescopes  upon  the  object  aimed  at,  and  can 
shoot  better  when  a  ship  is  rolling  than  when  she 
is  travelling  upon  an  even  keel.  We  believe  in 
relying  mainly  upon  the  deft  eyes  and  hands  of 
our  gun-layers — when  the  enemy  is  within  their 
range  of  vision — and  upon  control  officers  up  aloft 
when  he  is  not.  German  gunnery  can  be  very 
good,  but  it  tends  to  fall  to  pieces  under  stress 
of  battle.  Ours  tends  to  improve  in  action. 
Machinery  is  a  good  servant  but  a  bad  master. 

As  the  shots  are  fired  they  are  observed  by  the 
spotting  officers  to  fall  too  short  or  too  far  over, 
to  one  side  or  to  the  other,  and  corrections  are 
made  in  direction  and  in  range  so  as  to  convert  a 
" bracket"  into  a  "straddle"  and  then  to  bring 
off  accurate  hits. 

When,  say,  the  shots  of  one  salvo  fall  beyond 
the  mark  and  the  shots  of  the  next  come  down 
on  the  near  side,  the  mark  is  said  to  be  "bracketed." 
When  the  individual  shots  of  a  salvo  fall  some  too 
far  and  others  too  short,  the  mark  has  been 
"straddled."  A  straddle  is  a  closed-in  bracket. 
At  long  ranges  far  more  shots  miss  than  hit, 
and  we  are  dealing  now  with  ranges  up  to  ten  or 
twelve  miles.  The  bigger  the  gun  the  bigger  the 
splash  made  by  its  shell  when  striking  the  water, 
and  as  the  spotting  officers  cannot  spot  unless 
they  can  clearly  make  out  the  splashes,  there  is 


166  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

an  accuracy — an  ultimate  effective  accuracy — in 
big  guns  with  which  smaller  ones  cannot  compete 
however  well  they  may  be  served.  For,  ulti- 
mately, in  naval  gunnery,  when  ships  are  moving 
fast  and  ranges  are  changing  continually,  we 
come  down  to  trial  and  error.  We  shoot  and 
correct,  correct  and  shoot,  now  and  then  find  the 
mark  and  speedily  lose  it  again,  as  the  courses 
and  speeds  are  changed.  Unless  we  can  see  the 
splashes  of  the  shells  and  are  equipped  with  guns 
powerful  enough  to  shoot  fairly  flat — without  high 
elevation — we  may  make  a  great  deal  of  noise 
and  expend  quantities  of  shell,  but  we  shall  not 
do  much  hurt  to  the  enemy. 

The  Falkland  Islands  action  was  the  Royal 
Navy's  first  experience  in  long-range  war  gunnery 
under  favorable  conditions  of  light — and  it  was 
rather  disappointing.  It  revealed  the  immense 
gap  which  separates  shooting  in  war  and  shooting 
at  targets  in  time  of  peace.  The  battle  cruisers 
sank  the  enemy,  and  suffered  little  damage  in 
doing  their  appointed  work,  and  thus  achieved 
both  the  purposes  which  Admiral  Sturdee  had 
set  himself  and  his  men.  But  it  was  a  wasteful 
exhibition,  and  showed  how  very  difficult  it  is  to 
sink  even  lightly  armoured  ships  by  gun-fire  alone. 
Our  shells  at  the  long  ranges  set  were  falling 
steeply;  their  effective  targets  were  not  the 
sides  but  the  decks  of  the  Germans,  which  were 
not  more  than  seventy  feet  wide.  If  one  reflects 
what  it  means  to  pitch  a  shell  at  a  range  of  ten 
miles  upon  a  rapidly  moving  target  seventy  feet 
wide,  one  can  scarcely  feel  surprised  that  very  few 
shots  got  fairly  home.  We  need  not  accept  au 
pied  de  la  lettre  the  declaration  of  Lieutenant 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  167 

Lietzmann — a  damp  and  unhappy  prisoner — that 
the  Gneisenau,  shot  at  for  five  hours,  was  hit 
effectively  only  twenty  times,  nor  endorse  his 
rather  savage  verdict  that  the  shooting  of  the 
battle  cruisers  was  "simply  disgraceful."  But 
every  competent  gunnery  officer,  in  his  moments 
of  expansive  candour,  will  agree  that  the  results 
of  the  big-gun  shooting  were  not  a  little  disap- 
pointing. The  Germans  added  to  our  difficulty 
by  veiling  their  ships  in  smoke  clouds  and  thus, 
to  some  extent  cancelled  the  day's  "visibility." 

No  enemy  could  have  fought  against  over- 
whelming odds  more  gallantly  and  persistently 
than  did  von  Spec,  his  officers,  and  his  highly 
trained  long-service  men.  Many  times,  even  at 
the  long  ranges  at  which  the  early  part  of  the 
action  was  fought,  they  brought  off  fair  hits  upon 
the  battle  cruisers.  One  8.2-inch  shell  from  the 
Scharnhorst  wrecked  the  Invincible's  wardroom 
and  smashed  all  the  furniture  into  chips  except 
the  piano,  which  still  retained  some  wires  and  part 
of  the  keyboard.  Another  shell  scattered  the 
Fleet  Paymaster's  money-box  and  strewed  the 
decks  with  golden  bullets.  But  it  was  all  useless. 
Though  the  Invincible  was  the  leading  ship,  and 
at  one  time  received  the  concentrated  fire  of  both 
the  Scharnhorst  and  the  Gneisenau,  she  did  not 
suffer  a  single  casualty.  And,  while  she  was 
being  peppered  almost  harmlessly,  her  huge  shells, 
which  now  and  then  burst  inboard  the  doomed 
German  vessels,  were  setting  everything  on  fire 
between  decks,  until  the  dull  red  glow  could  be 
seen  from  miles  away  through  the  gaping  holes  in 
the  sides.  It  was  a  long-drawn-out  agony  of  Hell. 

Firing  began  seriously  at  12.55  and  continued, 


168  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

with  intervals  of  rest  for  guns  and  men,  till  4.16, 
when  the  Scharnhorst  sank.  Three  hours  and 
twenty-one  minutes  of  Hell!  Through  it  all  the 
Germans  stuck  to  their  work,  there  was  no  thought 
of  surrender;  they  fought  so  long  as  a  gun  could 
be  brought  to  bear  or  a  round  of  shell  remained 
in  their  depleted  magazines.  Every  man  in  the 
Scharnhorst  was  killed  or  drowned;  the  action  was 
not  ended  when  she  went  down  and  her  consort 
Gneisenau,  steaming  through  the  floating  bodies 
of  the  poor  relics  of  her  company,  was  compelled 
to  leave  them  to  their  fate.  For  nearly  two  hours 
longer  the  Gneisenau  kept  up  the  fight.  The  battle 
cruisers  and  the  smaller  Carnarvon  closed  in  upon 
her,  and  at  a  range  of  some  six  to  seven  land  miles 
smashed  her  to  pieces.  By  half-past  five  she  was 
blazing  furiously  fore  and  aft,  and  at  two  minutes 
past  six  she  rolled  over  and  sank.  Her  guns  spoke 
up  to  the  last.  As  she  lay  upon  her  side  her  end 
was  hastened  by  the  Germans  themselves,  who, 
feeling  that  she  was  about  to  go,  opened  to  the 
sea  one  of  the  broadside  torpedo  flats.  She  sank 
with  her  ensign  still  flying.  If  the  whole  German 
Navy  could  live,  fight,  and  die  like  the  Far  Eastern 
Pacific  Squadron,  that  Service  might  in  time 
develop  a  true  Naval  Soul. 

Those  of  the  crew  who  remained  afloat  in  the 
water  after  the  Gneisenau  sank  were  picked  up 
by  boats  from  the  battle  cruisers  and  the  Carnarvon 
— we  rescued  108  officers  and  men.  Admiral 
Sturdee  sent  them  a  message  of  congratulation 
upon  their  rescue  and  of  commendation  upon  their 
gallantry  in  battle,  and  every  English  sailor  did 
his  utmost  to  treat  them  as  brothers  of  the  sea. 
Officers  and  men  lived  with  their  captors  as  guests, 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  169 

not  as  prisoners,  in  wardroom  and  gun-room,  and 
on  the  lower  deck  the  English  and  Germans  fought 
their  battle  over  again  hi  the  best  of  honest  fellow- 
ship. "There  is  nothing  at  all  to  show  that  we 
are  prisoners  of  war,"  wrote  a  young  German 
lieutenant  to  his  friends  hi  the  Fatherland,  express- 
ing in  one  simple  sentence — though  perhaps  un- 
consciously— the  immortal  spirit  of  the  English 
Sea  Service.  A  defeated  enemy  is  not  a  prisoner; 
he  is  an  unhappy  brother  of  the  sea,  to  be  dried 
and  clothed  and  made  much  of,  and  to  be  taught 
with  the  kindly  aid  of  strong  drink  to  forget  his 
troubles. 

There  is  little  of  exhilaration  about  a  sea  fight, 
such  as  that  which  I  have  briefly  sketched.  It 
seems,  even  to  those  who  take  part  in  it,  to  be 
wholly  impersonal  and  wholly  devilish.  Though 
its  result  depends  entirely  upon  the  human  element, 
upon  the  machines  which  men's  brains  have 
secreted  and  which  their  cunning  hands  and  eyes 
direct,  it  seems  to  most  of  them  while  in  action  to 
have  become  nothing  loftier  than  a  fight  between 
soulless  machines.  One  cannot  wonder.  The 
enemy  ship — to  those  few  of  the  fighting  men  who 
can  see  it — is  a  spot  upon  the  distant  horizon  from 
which  spit  out  at  intervals  little  columns  of  fire 
and  smoke.  There  is  no  sign  of  a  living  foe. 
And  upon  one's  own  ship  the  attention  of  everyone 
is  absorbed  by  mechanical  operations — the  steam 
steering  gear,  the  fire  control,  the  hydraulic  or 
electric  gun  mechanism,  the  glowing  fires  down 
below  fed  by  their  buzzing  air  fans,  the  softly 
purring  turbines.  And  yet,  what  now  appears 
to  be  utterly  inhuman  and  impersonal  is  hi  reality 
as  personal  and  human  as  was  fighting  in  the  days 


170  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

of  yard-arm  distances  and  hand-to-hand  boarding. 
The  Admiral  who,  from  his  armoured  conning- 
tower,  orders  the  courses  and  maintains  the 
distances  best  suited  to  his  terrible  work;  the  Fire 
Director  watching,  aiming,  adjusting  sights  with 
the  minute  care  of  a  marksman  with  his  rifle;  the 
officers  at  their  telescopes  spotting  the  gouts  of 
foam  thrown  up  by  the  bursting  shells;  the 
engineers  intent  to  squeeze  the  utmost  tally  in 
revolutions  out  of  their  beloved  engines;  the 
stokers  each  man  rightly  feeling  that  upon  him 
and  his  efforts  depends  the  sustained  speed  which 
alone  can  give  mastery  of  manoeuvre;  the  seamen 
at  their  stations  extinguishing  fire  caused  by 
hostile  shells;  the  gunners  following  with  huge 
blind  weapons  the  keen  eyes  directing  them  from 
far  aloft;  all  these  are  personal  and  very  human 
tasks.  A  sea  fight,  though  it  may  appear  to  be 
one  between  machinery,  is  now  as  always  a  fight 
between  men.  Battles  are  fought  and  won  by 
men  and  by  the  souls  of  men,  by  what  they  have 
thought  and  done  in  peace  time  as  a  preparation 
for  war,  by  what  they  do  in  war  as  the  result  of 
their  peace  training. 

The  whole  art  of  successful  war  is  the  concentra- 
tion upon  an  enemy  at  a  given  moment  of  an 
overwhelming  force  and  the  concentration  of 
that  force  outside  the  range  of  his  observation. 
Both  these  things  were  done  by  the  Royal  Navy 
between  November  6th  and  December  8th,  1914, 
and  their  fruits  were  the  shattered  remains  of 
von  Spec's  squadron  lying  thousands  of  fathoms 
deep  in  the  South  Atlantic.  But  nothing  which 
the  Admiralty  planned  upon  November  6th  would 
have  availed  had  not  the  Royal  Navy  designed 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  171 

and  built  so  great  a  force  of  powerful  ships  that, 
when  the  far-off  call  arose,  two  battle  cruisers  could 
be  spared  to  travel  7,000  miles  from  the  North 
Sea  to  the  Falkland  Islands  without  sensibly 
endangering  the  margin  of  safety  of  the  Grand 
Fleet  at  home. 

While  the  Invincible  and  Inflexible  were  occupying 
the  front  of  the  battle  stage  and  disposing  of  the 
hostile  stars,  the  English  light  cruisers  were  enjoy- 
ing themselves  in  the  wings  in  a  more  humble 
but  not  less  useful  play.  The  cruiser  Kent  aston- 
ished everybody.  She  was  the  lame  duck  of  the 
Squadron,  a  slow  old  creature  who  could  with 
extreme  difficulty  screw  out  seventeen  knots,  so 
that,  in  the  company  of  much  faster  boats,  her 
armament  of  fourteen  6-inch  guns  appeared  to  be 
practically  wasted.  Yet  this  elderly  County  cruiser, 
so  short  of  coal  that  her  fires  were  fed  with  boats, 
ladders,  doors,  and  officers'  furniture,  got  herself 
moving  at  over  twenty-one  knots,  chased  and 
caught  the  Nurnberg — which  ought  to  have  been 
able  to  romp  round  her  if  one  of  her  boilers  had 
not  been  out  of  action — and  sank  the  German 
vessel  out  of  hand.  Afterwards  her  officers  claimed 
with  solemn  oaths  that  she  had  done  twenty-four 
knots,  but  there  are  heights  to  which  my  credulity 
will  not  soar.  One  is  compelled  on  the  evidence 
to  believe  that  she  did  catch  the  Nurnberg,  but 
how  she  did  it  no  one  can  explain,  least  of  all,  I 
fancy,  her  Engineer  Commander  himself.  The 
Leipzig  was  rapidly  overhauled  by  the  speedy 
Glasgow,  who  sank  her  with  the  aid  of  the  Cornwall 
and  so  repaid  in  full  the  debt  of  Coronel.  The 
cruiser  Bristol,  a  sister  of  the  Glasgow,  was  sent 
after  the  German  Squadron's  transports  and  col- 


172  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

liers,  and,  in  company  with  the  armed  liner 
Macedonia,  " proceeded,"  in  naval  language,  "to 
destroy  them."  Out  of  the  whole  German  Squad- 
ron the  light  cruiser  Dresden  (own  sister  to  the 
Emderi)  alone  managed  to  get  away.  She  had 
turbine  engines  and  fled  without  firing  a  shot. 
She  passed  a  precarious  hunted  existence  for  three 
months,  and  was  at  last  disposed  of  off  Robinson 
Crusoe's  Island  on  March  14th,  1915.  The  Glasgow, 
still  intent  upon  collecting  payment  for  her  injuries, 
and  our  aged  but  active  friend  the  Kent,  were  in 
at  her  death,  which  was  not  very  glorious.  I  will 
tell  her  story  in  its  proper  place.  So  ended  that 
most  dainty  operation,  the  wiping  out  of  the 
German  Pacific  Squadron  and  the  cleaning  up 
of  the  Mess  of  Coronel.  Throughout,  our  sailors 
had  to  do  only  with  clean  above-water  fighting. 
There  were  no  nasty  sneaking  mines  or  submarines 
to  hamper  free  movement;  the  fast  ship  and  the 
big  gun  had  full  play  and  did  their  work  in  the 
business-like  convincing  fashion  which  the  Royal 
Navy  has  taught  us  to  expect  from  it. 


[For  what  follows  I  have  none  but  German 
evidence,  yet  am  loth  to  disbelieve  it.  I  cannot 
bring  myself  to  conceive  it  possible  that  the  dull 
Teutonic  imagination  could,  unaided  by  fact, 
round  off  in  so  pretty  a  fashion  the  story  of  the 
Falkland  Islands.  My  naval  friends  laugh  at  me. 
They  say  the  yarn  is  wholly  impossible.] 

More  than  a  year  afterwards  some  fishermen 
upon  the  barren  Schleswig  coast  observed  a  little 
water-worn  dinghy  lying  upon  the  sand.  She 
was  an  open  boat  about  twelve  feet  long,  too  frail 


IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS  173 

a  bark  in  which  to  essay  the  crossing  of  the  North 
Sea.  Yet  upon  this  little  dinghy  was  engraved 
the  name  of  the  Nurnberg!  Like  a  homing  pigeon 
this  frail  scrap  of  wood  and  iron  had  wandered 
by  itself  across  the  world  from  that  far-distant  spot 
where  its  parent  vessel  had  been  sunk  by  the 
Kent.  It  had  drifted  home,  empty  and  alone, 
through  7,000  miles  of  stormy  seas.  I  like  to 
picture  to  myself  that  Odyssey  of  the  Nurnberg's 
dinghy  during  those  fourteen  months  of  lonely 
ocean  travel.  Those  who  know  and  love  ships 
are  very  sure  that  they  are  alive.  They  are  no 
soulless  hulks  of  wood  or  steel  or  iron,  but  retain 
always  some  spiritual  essence  distilled  from  the 
personality  of  those  who  designed,  built,  and  sailed 
them.  It  may  be  that  in  her  dim  blind  way  this 
fragment  of  a  once  fine  cruiser,  all  that  was  left 
of  a  splendid  squadron,  was  inspired  to  bring  to 
her  far-away  northern  home  the  news  of  a  year- 
old  tragedy.  So  she  drifted  ever  northwards, 
scorched  by  months  of  sun  and  buffeted  by  months 
of  tempest,  until  she  came  at  last  to  rest  upon 
her  own  arid  shores.  And  the  spirits  of  German 
sailors,  which  had  accompanied  her  and  watched 
over  her  during  those  long  wanderings,  must,  when 
they  saw  her  ground  upon  the  Schleswig  sands, 
have  passed  to  their  sleep  content. 


CHAPTER  IX 

HOW  THE  " SYDNEY"  MET  THE  "EMDEN" 

Forward,  each  gentleman  and  knight! 
Let  gentle  blood  show  generous  might 
And  chivalry  redeem  the  fight! 

THE  Luck  of  the  Navy  is  not  always  good.  There 
are  wardrooms  in  the  Grand  Fleet  within  which 
to  mention  any  Joss  except  of  the  most  devilish 
blackness  may  lead  to  blasphemy  and  even  to 
blows.  One  can  sympathise.  Those  who  sped 
on  May  31st,  1916,  across  400  miles  of  sea  and 
who,  though  equipped  with  all  the  paraphernalia 
of  fire-directors,  spotting-officers,  range-fingers, 
control  instruments,  grizzled  gun-layers  and  tre- 
mendous wire-wound  guns,  failed  to  get  in  a  single 
shot  at  an  elusive  enemy,  are  dangerous  folk  to 
chaff.  If  to  them  had  been  vouchsafed  the  great 
chance  which  came  to  the  Salt  of  the  Earth  and 
the  Fifth  B.  S.  there  would  not  now  be  a  German 
battleship  afloat!  Still,  in  face  of  blazing  examples 
of  bad  Joss  such  as  this,  I  will  maintain  that  there 
are  pixies  sitting  up  aloft  who  have  a  tender  regard 
for  the  Royal  Navy  and  who,  every  now  and  then, 
ladle  out  to  it  toothsome  morsels  of  unexpected, 
astounding,  incredible  Luck. 

For  how  else  can  one  explain  the  action  at  the 
Falkland  Islands?    There  was  sheer  luck  in  every 

174 


HOW  THE  SYDNEY  MET  THE  EMDEN    175 

detail  of  it,  luck  piled  upon  luck.  Sturdee  with 
his  two  battle-cruisers  raced  through  7,000  miles 
of  ocean,  from  Plymouth  to  Port  Stanley,  and 
not  a  whisper  of  his  coming  sped  over  the  wireless 
to  von  Spec.  Yet  hundreds  knew  of  Sturdee's 
mission — even  I  knew  before  he  had  cleared  the 
English  Channel.  During  five  weeks,  from  the 
Coronel  battle  until  December  7th,  the  Falkland 
Islands  were  exposed  almost  helpless  to  a  raid 
by  von  Spec's  victorious  squadron.  Yet  he  delayed 
his  coming  until  December  8th — the  day  after 
the  Invincible  and  Inflexible  had  arrived  to  gobble 
him  up.  As  if  these  two  miracles  were  not  sufficient 
— a  month  of  silence  in  those  buzzing  days  of 
enemy  agents  and  wireless  telegraphy,  and  von 
Spec's  arrival  off  Port  Stanley  at  the  moment 
most  dangerous  for  him  and  most  convenient  for 
us — the  Fates  worked  for  the  Navy  yet  another. 
They  gave  to  Sturdee  upon  December  8th,  1914, 
perfect  weather,  full  visibility,  and  a  quiet  sea  in 
a  corner  of  ocean  where  rain  and  fog  are  the  rule 
and  clear  weather  almost  a  negligible  exception. 
The  Falkland  Islands  do  not  see  half  a  dozen 
such  days  as  that  December  8th  in  the  whole 
circuit  of  the  year.  Von  Spec  came  and  to  Sturdee 
were  granted  a  long  southern  summer  day,  perfect 
visibility,  a  limitless  ocean  of  space,  and  a  benign 
easy  swell  to  swing  the  gunsights  kindly  upon 
their  mark.  It  was  a  day  that  gunners  pray  for, 
sometimes  dream  of,  but  very  rarely  experience  hi 
battle. 

Less  conspicuously  but  not  less  benignantly  did 
the  kindly  Fates  work  up  the  scene  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  Emden.  They  made  all  their  prepara- 
tions in  silence  and  then  switched  up  the  curtain 


176  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

at  the  moment  chosen  by  themselves.  In  the  Falk- 
land Islands  action  Luck  interposed  to  perfect 
the  Navy's  long-laid  plans  and  to  add  to  the  scheme 
those  artistic  touches  of  which  man  unaided  is 
incapable.  But  the  Sydney-Emden  action  was 
fortuitous,  quite  unplanned,  flung  off  at  a  moment 
when  Luck  might  have  seemed  to  be  wholly  on 
the  side  of  the  raider.  The  Emden  had  destroyed 
70,000  tons  of  shipping  in  seven  weeks  and  vanished 
after  each  exploit  upon  an  ocean  which  left  no 
tracks.  She  seemed  to  be  as  elusive  and  dangerous 
as  the  Flying  Dutchman.  But  perhaps  her  com- 
mander, von  Miiller,  a  most  ingenious  and  gallant 
seaman,  had  committed  that  offence,  which  the 
Athenians  and  Eton  boys  call  hubris,  and  had 
neglected  to  pay  due  homage  for  the  good  fortune 
which  was  poured  upon  him  in  plenty.  For  the 
Fates  wearied  of  their  sport  with  him  and  with 
us,  withdrew  their  mantle  of  protection,  and 
suddenly  delivered  the  Emden  to  the  Sydney  with 
that  artistic  thoroughness  which  may  always  be 
seen  in  their  carefully  planned  work.  Luck  is  no 
bungler,  but  Luck  is  a  most  jealous  mistress.  If 
Sturdee  and  Glossop  are  wise  they  will  sacrifice 
their  dearest  possessions  while  there  is  yet  time. 
The  Invincible  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  North  Sea 
and  the  Inflexible  was  mined  in  the  Dardanelles. 
The  Sydney  is  a  pretty  little  ship  and  I  should 
grieve  to  see  her  suffer  for  her  good  luck  of  three 
years  ago. 


Take  a  chart  of  the  Indian  Ocean  and  draw  a 
line  from  Fremantle  in  Australia  to  Colombo  in 
Ceylon.  The  middle  point  of  this  line  will  be  seen 


HOW  THE  SYDNEY  MET  THE  EMDEN    177 

to  lie  about  fifty  miles  east  of  the  Cocos-Keeling 
Islands.     Now  draw  another  line  from  Cocos  to 
the  Sunda  strait,  a  line  which  will  be  seen*  to  bisect 
at  right  angles  the  Fremantle-Colombo  line.     After 
this  exercise  in  Euclid  examine  that  point  without 
parts  and  without  magnitude,  fifty  miles  east  of 
Cocos,  where  the  tracks  intersect.     It  is  a  very 
interesting  point,  for  upon  the  tropical  night  of 
November  8th,  1914,  it  was  being  approached  by 
two  hostile  naval  forces  each  of  which  was  entirely 
ignorant  of  the  nearness  of  the  other.     Coming 
up  from  Australia  bound  for  Colombo  steamed  a 
fleet  of  transports  under  the  charge  of  Captain 
Silver  of  H.M.  Australian  light  cruiser  Melbourne. 
Upon  the  left  of  Captain  Silver,  and  nearest  to 
the  Cocos  Islands,   was  Captain  Glossop  in  the 
sister  ship  Sydney,  and  away  to  the  right  was  a 
Japanese  light  cruiser.     Upon  the  line  from  the 
Sunda  strait  to  the  Cocos  Islands  was  steaming 
the    famous    raider    Emden,    with    an    attendant 
collier,  bound  upon  a  mission  of  destruction  there. 
The  Emden  crossed  the  head  of  the  convoy  about 
three  hours  before  it  reached  the  point  of  inter- 
section of  the  two  tracks,  and  went  on  to  demolish 
the    cable   and   wireless   station   on   the   Islands. 
Meanwhile,  wholly  unconscious  of  the  scene-setting 
upon   which   the   Fates   were   busy,    the    convoy 
sailed  on,  crossed  the  Emden's  track  and  cut  that 
vessel  off  from  any  chance  of  escape  to  the  east. 
To  the  west  the  ocean  stretches  unbroken  for  limit- 
less miles.    At  half-past  six  in  the  morning  the 
Emden  appeared  off  the  Cocos  Islands  and  the 
watching  wireless  operators  at  once  sent  out  a 
warning  to  all  whom  it  might  concern  that  a  foreign 
warship  was  in  sight.     It  greatly  concerned  Captain 


178 


THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 


2)      I    \4.     JV      •' 


North  Keeling  I.  "'•''    • 

0    -,  Direction  I- 

Cocos-Keeling  ll     \ 


O      C     JS 


JNT 


HOW  THE  "  SYDNEY  "   HEX  THE 


HOW  THE  SYDNEY  MET  THE  EMDEN    179 

Silver  of  the  Melbourne,  who  ordered  Captain 
Glossop  to  proceed  in  the  Sydney  to  the  Islands 
in  order  to  investigate.  The  Sydney  was  nearest 
to  the  Islands,  was  a  clean  ship  not  three  weeks 
out  of  dock,  was  in  trim  for  the  highest  possible 
speed  and,  though  largely  manned  by  men  in 
course  of  training,  was  in  charge  of  experienced 
officers  "lent "  by  the  Royal  Navy  to  the  Australian 
Fleet  Unit. 

In  the  old  sailing-ship  days  it  was  more  common 
than  it  is  now  for  fighting  ships  to  pass  close  to 
one  another  without  detection.  Whole  fleets  used 
then  to  do  it  in  a  way  which  now  seems  always 
unbelievable.  The  classical  example  is  that  of 
Napoleon  and  Nelson  in  June,  1798.  On  the  night 
of  June  30th- July  1st,  Napoleon  with  a  huge 
fleet  of  transports,  escorted  by  Admiral  Brueys' 
squadron,  crossed  the  Gulf  of  Candia  and  reached 
Alexandria  on  the  afternoon  of  the  1st.  Nelson, 
who  had  been  at  Alexandria  in  search  of  his  enemy, 
left  on  June  29th,  and  sailed  slowly  against  adverse 
winds  to  the  north.  Though  the  French  and 
British  fleets  covered  scores  of  miles  of  sea  they 
passed  across  one  another,  each  without  suspicion 
of  the  presence  of  the  other.  Nelson  was  very 
short  of  frigates.  It  is  not  remarkable  that  the 
British  convoy  and  the  Emden  on  the  night  of 
November  8th,  1914,  should  so  nearly  have  met 
without  mutual  detection;  what  is  wonderful  is 
that  the  Emden  should  have  chosen  the  day  and 
hour  for  raiding  the  Cocos  Islands  when  a  greatly 
superior  British  force  was  barely  fifty  miles  distant 
and  placed  by  accident  in  a  position  which  cut  off 
all  prospects  of  escape.  It  was  a  stroke  of  Luck 
for  us  which  exactly  paralleled  the  occasion  of 


180  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

von  Spec's  raid  a  month  later  upon  the  Falkland 
Islands. 

By  seven  o'clock  Glossop  and  the  Sydney  were 
ready  to  leave  upon  their  trip  of  investigation — 
they  had  no  knowledge  of  what  was  before  them 
— and  during  the  next  two  and  a  quarter  hours 
they  steamed  at  twenty  knots  towards  the  distant 
cable  station.  In  the  meantime  the  Emden  had 
sent  a  boat  ashore  and  the  work  of  destruction  of 
the  station  was  completed  by  9.20  a.m.  Every- 
thing fitted  exactly  into  its  place,  for  the  Fates 
are  very  pretty  workmen.  The  Emden  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  Sydney's  coming,  but  as  Glossop  sped 
along  his  wireless  receivers  took  up  the  distress 
calls  from  Cocos.  He  learned  that  the  enemy 
warship  had  sent  a  boat  ashore — and  then  came 
interruptions  in  the  signals  which  showed  that 
the  wireless  station  had  been  raided.  Naval  offi- 
cers do  not  get  excited — they  have  too  much  of 
urgency  upon  which  to  concentrate  their  minds 
— but  to  those  in  the  Sydney  must  have  come  some 
thrills  at  the  unknown  prospect.  Their  ship  and 
their  men  were  new  and  untried  in  war.  Their 
guns  had  never  fired  a  shot  except  in  practice. 
Before  them  might  be  the  Emden  or  the  Konigsberg 
or  both  together.  They  did  not  know,  but  as 
they  rushed  through  the  slowly  heaving  tropic 
sea  they  serenely,  exactly,  prepared  for  action. 

The  light  cruiser  Sydney,  completed  in  1913  for 
the  Australian  Unit,  is  very  fast  and  powerful. 
She  is  5,600  tons,  built  with  the  clipper  bows 
and  lines  of  a  yacht,  and  when  oil  is  sprayed  upon 
her  coal  furnaces  can  steam  at  over  twenty-five 
knots.  She  bears  upon  her  deck  eight  6-inch 
guns  of  the  latest  pattern,  one  forward,  one  aft, 


HOW  THE  SYDNEY  MET  THE  EMDEN    181 

and  three  on  either  beam,  so  that  she  can  fire 
simultaneously  from  five  guns  upon  either  broad- 
side. Her  lyddite  shells  weigh  one  hundred  pounds 
each.  She  was,  and  is,  of  the  fast  one-calibre 
type  of  warship  which,  whether  as  light  cruiser, 
battle  cruiser,  or  heavy  battleship,  gives  to  our 
Navy  its  modern  power  of  manoeuvre  and  con- 
centrated fighting  force.  Speed  and  gun-power, 
with  the  simplicity  of  control  given  by  guns  all 
of  one  size,  are  the  doctrines  upon  which  the  New 
Navy  has  been  built,  and  by  virtue  of  which  it 
holds  the  seas.  The  Sydney  was  far  more  power- 
ful than  the  Emden,  whose  ten  guns  were  of  4.1- 
inch,  firing  shells  of  thirty-eight  pounds  weight. 
The  German  raider  had  been  out  of  dock  in  warm 
waters  for  at  least  three  and  a  half  months,  her 
bottom  was  foul,  and  her  speed  so  much  reduced 
that  in  the  action  which  presently  began  she  never 
raised  more  than  sixteen  knots.  In  speed  as  in 
gun-power  she  was  utterly  outclassed. 

Let  us  visit  the  Sydney  as  she  prepares  for  action 
on  the  morning  of  the  fight  just  as  she  had  prepared 
day  after  day  in  practice  drill  at  sea.  Before  the 
foremast  stands  the  armoured  conning  tower — 
exactly  like  a  closed-in  jam-pot — designed  for  the 
captain's  use;  forward  of  the  tower  rises  the 
two-storeyed  bridge,  the  upper  part  of  which  is 
the  station  of  the  gunnery  control  officer;  upon 
the  mast,  some  fifty  feet  up,  is  fitted  a  spotting 
top  for  another  officer.  This  distribution  of 
executive  control  may  look  very  pretty  and 
scientific,  but  Glossop,  who  had  tested  it  in  practice, 
proposed  to  fight  on  a  system  of  his  own.  If  a 
captain  is  cooped  up  in  a  conning  tower,  with  the 
restricted  vision  of  a  mediaeval  knight  through  a 


182  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

vizard,  a  gunnery  lieutenant  is  perched  on  the 
upper  bridge  by  the  big  range-finder,  and  another 
lieutenant  is  aloft  in  the  spotting  top,  the  diffi- 
culties of  communication  in  a  small  cruiser  are 
added  to  the  inevitable  confusion  of  a  fight.  So 
the  armoured  jam-pot  and  the  crow's  nest  aloft 
were  both  abandoned,  and  Glossop  placed  him- 
self beside  his  Gunnery  Lieutenant  Rahilly  upon 
the  upper  bridge  with  nothing  between  their  bodies 
and  the  enemy's  shot  except  a  frail  canvas  screen. 
Accompanying  them  was  a  lieutenant  in  charge 
of  certain  instruments.  At  the  back  of  the  bridge 
— which  measured  some  ten  feet  by  eight — stood 
upon  its  pedestal  the  principal  range-finder  with 
a  seat  at  the  back  for  the  operator.  This  con- 
centration of  control  upon  the  exposed  upper 
bridge  had  its  risks,  as  will  presently  appear,  but 
is  made  for  simplicity  and  for  the  rapid  working 
both  of  the  ship  and  of  her  guns.  Another  lieu- 
tenant, Geoffrey  Hampden,  was  in  charge  of  the 
after  control  station,  where  also  was  fitted  a  range- 
finder.  When  a  ship  prepares  for  action  the 
most  unhappy  person  on  board  is  the  Second  in 
Command  —  in  this  instance  Lieutenant-Com- 
mander John  F.  Finlayson  (now  Commander) — 
who  by  the  rules  of  the  Service  is  condemned  to 
safe  and  inglorious,  though  important  duties  in 
the  lower  conning  tower.  Here,  seeing  little  or 
nothing  and  wrapped  like  some  precious  egg  in 
cotton  wool,  the  poor  First  Lieutenant  is  preserved 
from  danger  so  that,  if  his  Chief  be  killed  or  dis- 
abled, he  at  least  may  remain  to  take  over  com- 
mand. 

From  the  upper  fore  bridge  of  the  Sydney  we 
can  see  the  guns'  crews  standing  ready  behind 


HOW  THE  SYDNEY  MET  THE  EMDEN    183 

their  curved  steel  screens  and  note  that  as  the 
ship  cuts  through  the  long  ocean  swell  the  waves 
break  every  now  and  then  over  the  foVsle  and 
drench  the  gun  which  stands  there.  At  9.15  land 
is  sighted  some  ten  miles  distant  and  five  minutes 
later  a  three-funnelled  cruiser,  recognised  at  once 
as  the  Emden,  is  seen  running  out  of  the  port. 
Upon  the  Sydney  a  bugle  blows,  and  then  for 
twenty  minutes  all  is  quiet  orderly  work  at  Action 
Quarters.  To  the  Emden  the  sudden  appearance 
of  the  Sydney  is  a  complete  surprise.  Her  destruc- 
tion party  of  three  officers  and  forty  men  are  still 
ashore  and  must  be  left  behind  if  their  ship  is  to 
be  given  any,  the  most  slender,  chance  of  escape. 
Captain  von  Miiller  recognises  the  Sydney  at  once 
as  a  much  faster  and  more  heavily  gunned  ship 
than  his  own.  His  one  chance  is  to  rush  at  his 
unexpected  opponent  and  utilise  to  the  utmost 
the  skill  of  his  highly  trained  gunners  and  the 
speed  with  which  they  can  work  their  quick-firing 
guns.  If  he  can  overwhelm  the  Sydney  with  a 
torrent  of  shell  before  she  can  get  seriously  home 
upon  him  he  may  disable  her  so  that  flight  will  be 
possible.  In  rapid  and  good  gunnery,  and  hi  a 
quick  bold  offensive,  may  rest  safely;  there  is  no 
other  chance.  So  out  he  comes,  makes  straight 
for  the  Sydney  as  hard  as  he  can  go  and  gives  her 
as  lively  a  fifteen  minutes  as  the  most  greedy  of 
fire-eaters  could  desire. 

When  the  two  cruisers  first  see  one  another  they 
are  20,000  yards  distant,  but  as  both  are  closing 
in  the  range  comes  quickly  down  to  10,500  yards 
(six  land  miles).  To  the  astonishment  both  of  the 
Captain  and  Gunnery  Lieutenant  of  the  Sydney, 
who  are  together  looking  out  from  the  upper  fore 


184  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

bridge,  von  Miiller  opens  fire  at  this  very  long 
range  for  his  small  4.1-inch  guns  and  gets  within 
a  hundred  yards  at  his  first  salvo.  It  is  wonderful 
shooting.  His  next  is  just  over  and  with  the 
third  he  begins  to  hit.  At  the  long  range  the 
Emden's  shells  fall  steeply — at  an  angle  of  thirty 
degrees — rarely  burst  and  never  ricochet  from  the 
sea.  They  whine  overhead  in  torrents,  plop  into 
the  sea  on  all  sides,  and  now  and  then  smash  on 
board.  One  reaches  the  upper  fore  bridge,  passes 
within  a  foot  of  Lieutenant  Rahilly's  head,  strikes 
the  pedestal  of  the  big  range-finder,  glances  off 
without  bursting,  cuts  off  the  leg  of  the  operator 
who  is  sitting  behind,  and  finishes  its  career  over- 
board. If  that  shell  had  burst  Glossop  and  his 
Gunnery  Lieutenant,  together  with  their  colleague 
at  the  rate-of-change  instrument,  must  have  been 
killed  or  seriously  wounded  and  the  Second  in 
Command  would  have  been  released  from  his 
thick  steel  prison.  Not  one  of  them  was  six  feet 
distant  from  where  the  shell  struck  hi  their  midst. 
The  range-finder  is  wrecked  and  its  operator  killed, 
but  the  others  are  untouched.  A  few  minutes 
later  two,  possible  three,  shells  hit  the  after  con- 
trol, wound  everyone  inside,  and  wipe  that  control 
off  the  effective  list. 

But  meanwhile  the  officers  of  the  Sydney  and 
their  untried  but  gallant  and  steady  men  have 
not  been  idle.  Their  first  salvo  fired  immediately 
after  the  Emden  opened  is  much  too  far,  their 
second  is  rather  wild  and  ragged,  but  with  the 
third  some  hits  are  made.  The  Sydney  had  for- 
tunately just  secured  her  range  when  the  principal 
range-finder  was  wrecked  and  the  after  control 
scattered,  and  Gunnery  Lieutenant  Rahilly  is  able 


HOW  THE  SYDNEY  MET  THE  EMDEN    185 

to  keep  it  by  careful  spotting  and  rate-of-change 
observations.  Glossop,  who  has  the  full  command 
given  by  superior  speed,  manoeuvres  so  as  to  keep 
out  to  about  8,000  yards,  to  maintain  as  nearly 
constant  a  rate  of  change  as  is  possible,  and  to 
present  the  smallest  danger  space  to  the  enemy. 
The  Emden's  first  effort  to  close  in  has  failed,  and 
now  that  the  Sydney's  100-pound  shells  begin  to 
burst  well  on  board  of  her  the  Emden's  one  chance 
upon  which  von  Miiller  has  staked  everything  has 
disappeared.  During  the  last  fifteen  minutes  the 
Sydney  was  hit  ten  times,  but  afterwards  not  at 
all;  the  Emden  was  hit  again  and  again  during 
the  long-drawn-out  two  hours  of  the  hopeless 
struggle.  After  twenty  minutes  the  Emden's  for- 
ward funnel  went  and  she  caught  fire  aft.  Her 
steering  gear  was  wrecked  and  she  became  depend- 
ent upon  the  manipulation  of  her  propellers, 
and  the  inevitable  falling  off  in  speed  to  about 
thirteen  knots.  During  the  early  critical  minutes 
of  the  action  the  Sydney  had  the  Emden  upon  her 
port  side,  but  all  her  casualties  were  suffered  upon 
the  starboard  or  disengaged  side  due  to  the  steep- 
ness with  which  the  German  shells  were  falling. 
Once  she  was  hit  upon  the  two-inch  side  armour 
over  the  engine  room  and  the  shell,  which  this 
time  burst,  left  a  barely  discernible  scratch.  An- 
other shell  fell  at  the  foot  of  a  starboard  gun  pedestal 
in  the  open  space  behind  the  shield,  burst  and 
wounded  the  gun's  crew  but  left  the  gun  unhurt 
except  for  a  spattering  of  a  hundred  tiny  dents. 
The  electric  wires  were  not  even  cut.  It  is  remark- 
able that  during  the  whole  of  the  action  no  electric 
wires  in  any  part  of  the  Sydney  were  damaged. 
As  I  have  told  both  gun  controls  of  the  Sydney 


186  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

were  hit  during  the  first  few  minutes  though  only 
the  after  one  was  put  out  of  action;  the  Emden, 
less  fortunate,  had  both  her  controls  totally 
destroyed  and  all  the  officers  and  men  within  them 
killed. 

After  the  lapse  of  about  three-quarters  of  an 
hour  the  Emden  had  lost  two  funnels  and  the  fore- 
mast; she  was  badly  on  fire  aft  and  amidships, 
so  that  at  times  nothing  more  than  the  top  of  the 
mainmast  could  be  seen  amid  the  clouds  of  steam 
and  smoke.  Her  guns,  now  occasionally  firing, 
gave  out  a  short  yellow  flash  by  which  they  could 
be  distinguished  from  the  long  dark  red  flames 
of  the  Sydney's  bursting  lyddite.  Once  she  disap- 
peared so  completely  that  the  cry  went  up  from 
the  Sydney  that  she  had  sunk,  but  she  appeared 
again,  blazing,  almost  helpless.  Glossop,  who 
had  been  circling  round  to  port,  then  drew  in  to 
a  range  of  5,500  yards — which  in  the  absence  of 
the  range-finder  was  wrongly  estimated  at  under 
5,000 — and  determined  to  try  a  shot  with  a  torpedo. 
It  was  a  difficult  shot  as  the  torpedo  gunner  was 
obliged  to  set  his  gyroscope  to  a  definite  angle 
and  then  wait  until  the  rapidly  turning  Emden 
came  upon  his  bearing.  But  in  spite  of  the  diffi- 
culties it  was  very  good;  the  torpedo  ran  straight 
for  its  mark  and  then  stopped  short  at  the  distance 
of  5,000  yards  for  which  it  had  been  set.  The 
torpedo  crews,  naturally  enough,  wanted  forth- 
with to  let  off  all  their  mouldies,  just  to  show  the 
gunners  how  the  business  should  be  done  with, 
but  the  hard-hearted  Glossop  forbade.  The 
moment  after  the  one  had  been  fired  he  swung  the 
ship  round  to  starboard,  opened  out  his  range,  and 
resumed  the  distressful  game  of  gun-pounding. 


HOW  THE  SYDNEY  MET  THE  EMDEN    187 

The  Emden  also  went  away  to  starboard  for  about 
four  miles  and  then  von  Mtiller,  finding  that  his 
ship  was  badly  pierced  under  water  as  well  as  on 
fire,  put  about  again  and  headed  for  the  North 
Keeling  Island,  where  he  ran  aground.  The  Syd- 
ney followed,  saw  that  her  beaten  enemy  was 
irretrievably  wrecked,  and  went  away  to  deal 
with  the  Emden' s  collier — a  captured  British  ship 
Buresk  —  which  had  hovered  about  during  the 
action  but  upon  which  Glossop  had  not  troubled 
to  fire.  The  Emden  fired  no  torpedoes  in  the 
action,  for  though  von  Muller  had  three  left  his 
torpedo  flat  was  put  out  of  business  early  in  the 
fight. 

Though  the  Emden  was  beaten  and  done  for, 
the  gallantry  and  skill  with  which  she  had  fought 
could  not  have  been  exceeded.  She  was  caught 
by  surprise,  and  to  some  extent  unprepared,  yet 
within  twenty  minutes  of  the  Sydney's  appearance 
upon  the  sky  line  von  Muller  was  pouring  a  con- 
tinuous rain  of  shell  upon  her  at  over  10,000  yards 
range  and  maintaining  both  his  speed  of  fire  and 
its  accuracy  until  the  hundred-pound  shots  bursting 
on  board  of  him  had  smashed  up  both  his  controls, 
knocked  down  his  foremast,  and  put  nine  of  his 
ten  guns  out  of  action.  Even  then  the  one  remain- 
ing gun  continued  to  fire  up  to  the  last.  The 
crew  of  the  Sydney,  exposed  though  many  of  them 
were  upon  the  vessel's  open  decks — a  light  cruiser 
has  none  of  the  protection  of  a  battleship — bore 
themselves  as  their  Anzac  fellow-countrymen  upon 
the  beaches  and  hills  of  Gallipoli.  At  first  they 
were  rather  ragged  through  over-eagerness,  but 
they  speedily  settled  down.  The  hail  of  shell 
which  beat  upon  them  was  unceasing,  but  they 


188  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

paid  as  little  heed  to  it  as  if  they  had  passed  their 
lives  under  heavy  fire  instead  of  experiencing  it  for 
the  first  time.  Upon  Glossop  and  his  lieutenants 
on  the  upper  bridge,  and  in  the  transmission  room 
below,  was  suddenly  thrown  a  new  and  urgent 
problem.  With  the  principal  range-finder  gone 
and  the  after-control  wrecked  in  the  first  few 
minutes,  they  were  forced  to  depend  upon  skilful 
manoeuvring  and  spotting  to  give  accuracy  to 
their  guns.  They  solved  their  problem  ambulando, 
as  the  Navy  always  does,  and  showed  that  they 
could  smash  up  an  opponent  by  mother  wit  and 
sea  skill  when  robbed  by  the  aid  of  science.  It  is 
good  to  be  equipped  with  all  the  appliances  which 
modern  ingenuity  has  devised;  it  is  still  better 
to  be  able  at  need  to  dispense  with  them. 

I  love  to  write  of  the  cold  fierce  energy  with 
which  our  wonderful  centuries-old  Navy  goes  forth 
to  battle,  but  I  love  still  more  to  record  its  kindly 
solicitude  for  the  worthy  opponents  whom  its 
energy  has  smashed  up.  Once  a  fight  is  over  it 
loves  to  bind  up  the  wounds  of  its  foes,  to  drink 
their  health  hi  a  friendly  bottle,  and  to  wish  them 
better  luck  next  time.  When  he  had  settled  with 
the  collier  Buresk,  and  taken  off  all  those  on  board 
of  her,  Glossop  returned  to  the  wreck  of  the  Emden 
lying  there  helpless  upon  the  North  Keeling  Island. 
The  foremast  and  funnels  were  gone,  the  brave 
ship  was  a  tangle  of  broken  steel  fore  and  aft, 
but  the  mainmast  still  stood  and  upon  it  floated 
the  naval  ensign  of  Germany.  Until  that  flag  had 
been  struck  the  Sydney  could  not  send  in  a  boat 
or  deal  with  the  crew  as  surrendered  prisoners. 
Captain  Glossop  is  the  kindliest  of  men,  it  went 
against  all  his  instincts  to  fire  at  that  wreck  upon 


HOW  THE  SYDNEY  MET  THE  EMDEN    189 

which  the  forms  of  survivors  could  be  seen  moving 
about,  but  his  duty  compelled  him  to  force  von 
Miiller  into  submission.  For  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
he  sent  messages  by  International  code  and  Morse 
flag  signals,  but  the  German  ensign  remained 
floating  aloft.  As  von  Miiller  would  not  surrender 
he  must  be  compelled,  and  compelled  quickly  and 
thoroughly.  In  order  to  make  sure  work  the 
Sydney  approached  to  within  4,000  yards,  trained 
four  guns  upon  the  Emden,  and  then  when  the 
aim  was  steady  and  certain  smashed  her  from  end 
to  end.  The  destruction  must  have  been  frightful, 
and  it  is  probable  that  von  Muller's  obstinacy  cost 
his  crew  greater  casualties  than  the  whole  previous 
action.  These  last  four  shots  did  their  work,  the 
ensign  came  down,  and  a  white  flag  of  surrender 
went  up.  It  was  now  late  in  the  afternoon,  the 
tropical  night  was  approaching,  and  the  Sydney 
left  the  Emden  to  steam  to  Direction  Island  some 
fifteen  miles  away  and  to  carry  succour  to  the 
staff  of  the  raided  cable  and  wireless  station.  Be- 
fore leaving  he  sent  in  a  boat  and  an  assurance 
that  he  would  bring  help  in  the  morning. 

Although  the  distance  from  Direction  Island, 
where  the  action  may  be  said  to  have  begun,  to 
North  Keeling  Island,  where  it  ended,  is  only 
fifteen  miles  the  courses  followed  by  the  fighting 
vessels  were  very  much  longer.  They  are  shown 
upon  the  von  Miiller-Glossop  plan,  printed  on 
page  193.  The  Emden  was  upon  the  inside  and 
the  Sydney — whose  greatly  superior  speed  gave 
her  complete  mastery  of  manoeuvre — was  upon 
the  outside.  The  Emden's  course  works  out  at 
approximately  thirty-five  miles  and  the  Sydney's 
at  fifty  miles.  The  officers  and  men  who  are 


190  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

fighting  a  ship  stand,  as  it  were,  in  the  midst  of 
a  brilliantly  lighted  stage  and  may  receive  more 
than  their  due  in  applause  if  one  overlooks  the 
sweating  engineers,  artificers,  and  stokers  who, 
hidden  far  below,  make  possible  the  exploits  of 
the  stars.  At  no  moment  during  the  whole  action, 
though  ventilating  fans  might  stop  and  minor 
pipes  be  cut,  did  the  engines  fail  to  give  Glossop 
the  speed  for  which  he  asked.  His  success  and 
his  very  slight  losses — four  men  killed  and  sixteen 
wounded — sprang  entirely  from  his  speed,  which, 
when  required,  exceeded  the  twenty-five  knots  for 
which  his  engines  were  designed.  When,  therefore, 
we  think  of  Glossop  and  Rahilly,  who  from  that 
exposed  upper  bridge  were  manoeuvring  the  ship 
and  directing  the  guns,  we  must  not  forget  Engineer 
Lieutenant-Commander  Coleman  and  his  half- 
naked  men  down  below,  who  throughout  that 
broiling  day  in  the  tropics  nursed  those  engines 
and  toiled  at  those  fires  which  brought  the  guns 
to  fire  upon  the  enemy. 

True  to  his  promise  Glossop  brought  the  Sydney 
back  to  the  Emden  at  eleven  o'clock  on  the  morning 
of  November  10th,  having  borrowed  a  doctor  and 
two  assistants  from  Direction  Island,  and  then 
began  the  long  task — which  the  Navy  loves  only 
less  than  actual  battle — of  rescue  and  care  for  the 
sufferers  by  its  prowess.  North  Keeling  Island 
is  an  irregular  strip  of  rock,  boulders  and  sand 
almost  entirely  surrounding  a  large  lagoon.  It  is 
studded  with  cocoanut  palms  and  infested  with 
red  land-crabs.  An  unattractive  spot.  The  Emden 
was  aground  upon  the  weatherside  and  the  long 
rollers  running  past  her  stern  broke  into  surf  before 
the  mainmast.  Lieutenant  R.  C.  Garsia,  going 


HOW  THE  SYDNEY  MET  THE  EMDEN    191 

out  to  her  in  one  of  the  Sydney's  boats,  was  hauled 
by  the  Germans  upon  her  quarter-deck,  where  he 
found  Captain  von  Miiller,  whose  personal  luck 
had  held  to  the  last,  for  he  was  unwounded.  Von 
Miiller  readily  gave  his  parole  to  be  amenable  to 
the  Sydney's  discipline  if  the  surviving  Germans 
were  transhipped.  The  Emden  was  hi  a  frightful 
state.  She  was  burned  out  aft,  her  decks  were 
piled  with  the  wreck  of  three  funnels  and  the  fore- 
mast, and  within  her  small  space  of  3,500  tons, 
seven  officers  and  115  men  had  been  killed  by  high- 
explosive  shell  and  splinters.  Her  condition  may 
be  suggested  by  the  experience  of  a  warrant  officer 
of  the  Sydney  who,  after  gravely  soaking  hi  her 
horrors,  retailed  them  in  detail  to  his  messmates. 
For  two  days  thereafter  the  warrant  officers'  mess 
in  the  Sydney  lost  their  appetites  for  meat:  one 
need  say  no  more!  The  unwounded  and  slightly 
wounded  men  were  first  transferred  to  the  boats 
of  the  Sydney  and  Buresk,  but  for  the  seriously 
wounded  Neil-Robertson  stretchers  had  to  be 
used  so  that  they  might  be  lowered  over  the  side 
into  boats.  This  had  to  be  done  during  the  brief 
lulls  between  the  rollers.  By  five  o'clock  the 
Emden  was  cleared  of  men  and  Captain  von  Miiller 
went  on  board  the  Sydney,  which  made  at  once 
for  the  only  possible  landing  place  on  the  island 
in  order  to  take  off  some  Germans  who  had  got 
ashore.  To  the  surprise  of  everyone  it  was  then 
discovered  that  several  wounded  men,  including 
a  doctor,  had  managed  to  reach  the  shore  and 
were  somewhere  among  the  scrub  and  rocks. 
Night  was  fast  coming  on,  the  wounded  ashore 
were  without  food  and  drink — except  what  could 
be  obtained  from  cocoanuts — and  were  cut  off 


192  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

from  all  assistance  except  that  which  the  Sydney 
could  supply.  The  story  of  how  young  Lieutenant 
Garsia  drove  in  through  the  surf  after  dark — at 
the  imminent  hazard  of  his  whaler  and  her  crew 
— hunted  for  hours  after  those  elusive  Germans, 
was  more  than  once  hopelessly  "bushed,"  and 
finally  came  out  at  the  original  landing  place,  is 
a  pretty  example  of  the  Navy's  readiness  to  spend 
ease  and  risk  life  for  the  benefit  of  its  defeated 
enemies.  In  the  morning  the  rescue  party  of 
English  sailors  and  unwounded  Germans,  supplied 
with  cocoanuts  and  an  improvised  stretcher  made 
of  bottom  boards  and  boathooks,  at  last  discovered 
the  wounded  party,  which  had  not  left  the  narrow 
neck  of  land  opposite  the  stranded  Emden.  Lieu- 
tenant Schal  of  the  Emden,  who  was  with  them, 
eagerly  seized  upon  the  cocoanuts  and  cut  them 
open  for  the  wounded,  who  had  been  crying  for 
water  all  night  and  for  whom  he  had  not  been  able 
to  .find  more  than  one  nut.  The  wounded  German 
doctor  had  gone  mad  the  previous  afternoon,  in- 
sisted upon  drinking  deeply  of  salt  water,  and  so 
died.  The  four  wounded  men  who  remained  alive 
were  laboriously  transferred  to  the  Sydney  and  the 
dead  were  covered  up  with  sand  and  boulders. 
"A  species  of  red  land-crab  with  which  the  ground 
is  infested  made  this  the  least  one  could  do." 
The  reports  of  Navy  men  may  seem  to  lack  grace, 
but  they  have  the  supreme  merit  of  vivid  simplicity. 
That  short  sentence,  which  I  have  quoted,  makes 
us  realise  that  waterless  crab-haunted  night  of 
German  suffering  more  vividly  than  a  column  of 
fine  writing. 

All  was  over,  and  the  packed  Sydney  headed 
away   for   her    1,600-mile    voyage    to    Colombo. 


HOW  THE  SYDNEY  MET  THE  EMDEN    193 


N. Keeling  I 

tm'den"  E^r<5 r 
•short;        \<&0 

\      ^ 


'Sidney** 

•W» 


Horsburgh  I.Q  AA^* ' 

C/"    SJ  Direction  I.    / 


\  /    -; 

v       — 


•  Sydney's  Course 
•Emden's    Course 

S,,S2  Ac.    Positions  of  "Sydney" 

EI,  E2  Ac.    Corresponding  positions  of "EmdetT 

Scale  of    Sea  Miles  •  t 

O       I       .2        3        *       5       6        7        a        9       10       II        12      13      I*      15 
ft*  Ifl   *'  KVIlNKir.TgM^^y**    ACTION", 


194  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

To  her  company  of  about  400  she  had  added  11 
German  officers  and  200  men,  of  whom  3  officers 
and  53  men  were  wounded.  The  worst  cases 
were  laid  upon  her  fo'c'sle  and  quarter-deck,  the 
rest  huddled  in  where  they  could.  It  was  a  trying 
voyage,  but  happily  the  weather  was  fine  and 
windless,  the  ship  as  steady  as  is  possible  in  the 
Indian  Ocean,  and  the  Germans  well  behaved, 
Von  Muller  and  Glossop,  the  conquered  and 
conqueror,  the  guest  and  the  host,  became  friendly 
and  mutually  respecting  during  those  days  in 
the  Sydney.  1  like  to  think  of  those  two,  in  the 
captain's  cabin,  putting  their  heads  together  over 
sheets  of  paper  and  at  last  evolving  the  plan  of 
the  Sydney-Emden  action  which  is  printed  here. 
Von  Muller  did  the  greater  part  of  it,  for,  as  Glossop 
remarked,  "he  had  the  most  leisure."  A  cruiser 
skipper  with  400  of  his  own  men  on  board  and  200 
prisoners,  is  not  likely  to  lack  for  jobs.  To  the 
von  Muller-Glossop  plan  I  have  added  a  few 
explanatory  words,  but  otherwise  it  is  as  finally 
approved  by  those  who  knew  most  about  it. 

Some  single-ship  actions  remain  more  persistently 
in  the  public  memory  and  in  the  history  books 
than  battles  of  far  greater  consequence.  They  are 
easy  to  describe  and  easy  to  understand.  One 
immortal  action  is  that  of  the  Shannon  and  the 
Chesapeake;  another  is  that  of  the  Sydney  and 
the  Emden.  It  was  planned  wholly  by  the  Fates 
which  rule  the  Luck  of  the  Navy,  it  was  fought 
cleanly  and  fairly  and  skilfully  on  both  sides, 
and  the  faster,  more  powerful  ship  won.  I  like 
to  picture  to  myself  the  Sydney  heading  for 
Colombo,  bearing  upon  her  crowded  decks  the 
captives  of  her  bow  and  spear,  her  guns  and  her 


HOW  THE  SYDNEY  MET  THE  EMDEN    195 

engines,  not  vaingloriously  triumphant,  but  humbly 
thankful  to  the  God  of  Battles.  To  her  officers 
and  crew  their  late  opponents  were  now  guests 
who  could  discuss  with  them,  the  one  with  the 
other,  the  incidents  of  the  short  fierce  fight  dis- 
passionately as  members  of  the  same  profession, 
though  serving  under  different  flags,  just  as  Glossop 
and  von  Muller  discussed  them  hi  the  after  cabin 
under  the  quarter-deck  when  they  bent  their  heads 
over  their  collaborated  plan. 


CHAPTER  X 

FROM  STRENGTH  TO  STRENGTH 

SINCE  I  have  not  been  so  foolish  as  to  set  myself 
the  task  of  writing  a  history  of  the  Naval  War, 
I  am  not  hampered  by  any  trammels  of  chrono- 
logical sequence.  It  is  my  purpose  to  select  those 
events  which  will  best  illustrate  the  workings  of 
the  British  Naval  Soul,  and  to  present  them  in 
such  a  manner  and  in  such  an  order  as  will  make 
for  the  greatest  simplicity  and  force.  Naval  war- 
fare, viewed  in  the  scattered  detail  of  operations 
taking  place  all  over  the  world,  is  a  mightily  con- 
fusing study;  but,  if  it  be  analysed  and  set  forth 
in  its  essential  features,  the  resultant  picture  has 
the  clarity  and  atmosphere  of  the  broad  sea  horizon 
itself.  There  is  nothing  in  naval  warfare,  as 
waged  by  the  Royal  Navy,  of  that  frightful  con- 
fusion and  grime  and  clotted  horror  which  has 
become  inseparable  from  the  operations  of  huge 
land  forces.  Sailors  live  clean  lives — except  when 
the  poor  fellows  are  coaling  ship! — and  die  clean 
deaths.  They  have  the  inestimable  privilege  of 
freedom  both  in  the  conception  of  their  plans  and 
in  their  execution.  The  broad  distinction  between 
land  and  sea  service  was  put  clearly  to  me  once 
by  a  Marine  officer  who  had  known  both.  "At 
sea,"  he  observed,  "one  at  least  lives  like  a  gentle- 

196 


FROM  STRENGTH  TO  STRENGTH   197 

man  until  one  is  dead."  It  must  be  very  difficult 
to  live  or  to  feel  like  a  gentleman  when  one  is 
smothered  in  the  mud  of  Flanders'  trenches  and 
has  not  had  a  bath  for  a  month. 

Although,  as  I  have  shown,  the  Grand  Fleet  at 
the  outbreak  of  war  was,  in  effective  battle  power, 
of  twice  the  strength  of  its  German  opponents,  no 
time  was  lost  hi  adding  largely  to  that  margin  of 
strength.  Mines,  with  which  Germany  recklessly 
sowed  the  seas  whenever  she  could  evade  the 
watchful  eyes  of  our  cruisers  and  destroyers,  and 
the  elusive  and  destructively  armed  submarine, 
were  perils  not  lightly  to  be  regarded  by  our  great 
ships.  We  took  the  measure  of  both  these  dangers 
in  due  course,  but  in  the  early  months  of  war  they 
caused  a  vast  amount  of  apprehension.  In  addi- 
tion, therefore,  to  dealing  directly  with  these 
perils  the  whole  power  of  our  shipyards,  gun 
shops,  and  armour-rolling  mills  was  turned  to 
the  task  of  increasing  the  available  margin  of 
battle  strength  so  as  to  anticipate  the  possibility 
of  serious  losses. 

And  here  we  had  great  advantages  over  Germany. 
We  not  only  had  a  far  longer  and  far  greater  ex- 
perience, both  in  designing  and  constructing  ships 
and  guns,  but  we  had  a  larger  number  of  yards 
and  shops  where  battleships  and  battle  cruisers 
could  be  completed  and  equipped.  Throughout 
the  fourteen  years  of  the  peace  contest  Germany 
had  always  been  far  behind  us  in  design,  in  speed 
of  construction,  and  in  the  volume  of  output. 
We  built  the  first  Dreadnought  in  little  more  than 
fifteen  months — by  preparing  all  the  material  in 
advance  and  taking  a  good  deal  from  other  ships 
— but  our  average  time  of  completing  the  later 


198  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

models  was  rather  more  than  two  years  apiece. 
The  exalted  super-battleships  occupied  about  two 
years  and  three  months  before  they  were  hi  com- 
mission. Germany — which  so  many  fearful  folk 
seriously  look  upon  as  superhuman  in  efficiency — 
never  built  an  ordinary  Dreadnought  in  peace 
time  hi  less  than  two  years  and  ten  months,  and 
always  waited  for  the  chance  of  copying  our 
designs  before  she  laid  one  down.  It  is  reasonable 
to  suppose  that  in  the  early  days  of  war  the  German 
yards  and  gun  shops  worked  much  more  rapidly 
than  during  the  peace  competition,  but  as  our 
own  quicker  rate  of  construction  was  also  enor- 
mously accelerated  it  is  in  the  highest  degree 
unlikely  that  our  speed  of  war  output  was  ever 
approached  by  our  opponents.  We  had  at  the 
beginning  far  more  skilled  labour  and,  what  is 
more  important,  far  more  available  skilled  labour. 
Since  it  was  only  by  slow  degrees  that  we  enlisted 
a  vast  army  for  Continental  service  while  Germany 
had  to  mobilise  the  whole  of  hers  at  the  beginning 
of  hostilities  and  to  call  upon  the  millions  of 
untrained  men,  the  drain  upon  our  manhood  was 
for  a  long  time  far  less  than  the  drain  upon  hers. 
As  time  went  on  labour  became  scarce  with  us, 
even  for  naval  work,  but  it  could  never  have 
been  so  scarce  as  with  the  Germans  when  after 
their  immense  losses  they  were  driven  to  employ 
every  possible  trained  and  untrained  man  with  the 
colours. 

We  had  yet  another  advantage.  In  August, 
1914,  as  the  result  of  the  far-seeing  demands  of 
the  British  Admiralty  we  had  twice  as  many 
great  ships  under  construction  in  this  country 
as  Germany  had  in  the  whole  of  her  North  Sea 


FROM  STRENGTH  TO  STRENGTH    199 

and  Baltic  yards.  This  initial  advantage  was  an 
enormous  one,  since  it  meant  that  for  eighteen 
months  Germany  could  make  no  effective  efforts 
to  catch  up  with  us,  and  that  at  the  end  of  that 
period  we  should  inevitably  have  in  commission 
an  increase  in  battle  strength  more  than  twice  as 
great  as  hers.  The  completed  new  lead  thus 
secured  early  in  1916,  added  to  the  lead  obtained 
before  the  outbreak  of  war,  then  made  our  position 
almost  impregnable.  We  were  thus  free  to  con- 
centrate much  of  our  attention  upon  those  smaller 
vessels — the  destroyers,  patrol  boats,  steam  drifters, 
fast  submarine  catchers  and  motor  boats — which 
were  urgently  needed  to  cope  with  Germany's 
attacks  upon  the  world's  merchant  ships. 

Early  in  1915,  six  months  after  the  outbreak  of 
War,  our  shipyards  and  gun  shops  had  turned 
out  an  extraordinary  quantity  of  finished  work. 
There  had  been  some  loss  in  skilled  labour  through 
voluntary  enlistment  in  the  Army,  but  the  men 
that  were  left  worked  day  and  night  shifts  in  the 
most  enthusiastic  and  uncomplaining  spirit.  The 
war  was  still  new  and  the  greatness  of  the  Empire's 
emergency  had  thrilled  all  hearts.  Some  cool- 
ness came  later,  as  was  inevitable — poor  human 
nature  has  its  cold  fits  as  well  as  its  hot  ones — 
and  there  was  even  some  successful  intriguing  by 
enemy  agents  in  the  North,  but  the  great  mass  of 
British  workmen  remained  sound  at  heart.  The 
work  went  on,  more  slowly,  a  little  less  enthusi- 
astically, but  it  went  on. 

During  the  first  six  months  we  completed  the 
great  battle  cruiser  Tiger,  a  sister  of  the  Lion 
with  her  eight  13.5-inch  guns,  and  the  sisters 
fought  together  with  those  others  of  their  class — 


200  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

the  Queen  Mary  and  Princess  Royal — in  the  Dogger 
Bank  action  in  January,  1915.  We  took  over 
and  completed  two  battleships  which  were  building 
for  Turkey  and  under  their  new  names  of  Erin 
and  Agincourt  they  joined  Jellicoe  in  the  north. 
The  second  of  these  great  vessels — ravished  from 
the  enemy — had  fourteen  12-inch  guns  (set  in 
seven  turrets)  and  the  other  ten  13.5-inch.  We 
completed  two  vast  super-ships,  the  Queen  Elizabeth 
and  another  like  to  her,  both  with  a  speed  of  twenty- 
five  knots  and  eight  15-inch  guns  apiece.  The 
battle  cruisers,  Indomitable  and  Indefatigable,  speed- 
ing home  from  the  Mediterranean,  had  raised  the 
Battle  Cruiser  strength  in  the  North  Sea  to  seven 
fine  vessels  of  which  four  carried  13.5-inch  guns 
and  the  three  others  12-inch  weapons.  Even 
though  the  Inflexible  and  Invincible  were  still 
away — they  were  not  yet  back  from  fighting  that 
perfect  little  action  in  which  the  German  Pacific 
Squadron  had  been  destroyed — we  had  a  battle 
cruiser  force  against  which  the  rival  German  vessels 
could  not  fight  and  hope  to  remain  afloat. 

After  six  months,  therefore,  Jellicoe  had  received 
four  new  battleships — two  of  them  by  far  the 
most  powerful  at  that  time  afloat — and  Beatty 
had  been  joined  by  three  battle  cruisers,  one  of 
them  quite  new.  The  Grand  Fleet  was  the 
stronger  for  six  months  of  work  by  seven  ships. 

As  compared  with  our  increased  strength  of 
seven  ships  (five  quite  new),  Germany  had  managed 
to  muster  no  more  than  three.  She  completed  two 
battleships  of  a  speed  of  twenty  and  a  half  knots, 
each  carrying  ten  12-inch  guns.  Neither  of  these 
vessels  were  more  powerful  than  our  original  Dread- 
nought class  and  they  were  not  to  be  compared  with 


FROM  STRENGTH  TO  STRENGTH    201 

our  King  George  V's,  Orions  or  Iron  Dukes  and 
still  less  with  our  Queen  Elizabeths.  That  Ger- 
many should,  six  months  after  the  war  began, 
be  completing  battleships  of  a  class  which  with  us 
had  been  far  surpassed  fully  four  years  earlier 
is  the  best  possible  illustration  of  her  poverty  in 
naval  brains  and  foresight.  Germany  had  also 
completed  one  battle  cruiser,  the  Derfflinger,  of* 
twenty-seven  knots  speed  and  with  eight  12-inch 
guns,  which  in  her  turn  was  not  more  powerful  than 
our  Invincibles  of  five  years  earlier  date.  The 
Derfflinger  could  no  more  have  stood  up  to  our  new 
Tiger  than  the  two  battleships  just  completed 
by  our  enemies  could  have  fought  for  half  an 
hour  with  our  two  new  Queen  Elizabeths.  So 
great  indeed  had  our  superiority  become  as  early 
in  the  war  as  the  beginning  of  1915  that  we  could 
without  serious  risk  afford  to  release  two  or 
three  battle  cruisers  for  the  Mediterranean  and 
to  escort  the  Canadian  and  Australian  contingents 
across  the  seas,  and  to  send  to  the  Mediterranean 
the  mighty  Queen  Elizabeth  to  flesh  her  maiden 
guns  upon  the  Turkish  defences  of  the  Dardanelles. 
Ship  guns  are  not  designed  to  fight  with  land  forts, 
and  though  the  Queen  Elizabeth's  15-inch  shells, 
weighing  over  1,900  Ibs.  apiece,  may  not  have 
achieved  very  much  against  the  defences  of  the 
Narrows,  their  smashing  power  and  wonderful 
accuracy  of  control  were  fully  demonstrated. 

Inconclusive  though  it  was  in  actual  results, 
the  Dogger  Bank  action  of  January,  1915,  proved 
to  be  most  instructive.  It  showed  clearly  three 
things:  first,  that  no  decisive  action  could  be 
fought  by  the  big  ships  in  the  southern  portion  of 
the  North  Sea — there  was  not  sufficient  room  to 


202  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

complete  the  destruction  of  the  enemy.  Secondly, 
it  demonstrated  the  overwhelming  power  of  the 
larger  gun  and  the  heavier  shell.  Thanks  to  the 
skill  of  the  Navy's  engineering  staffs  it  was  also 
found  that  the  actual  speed  of  our  battle  cruisers 
was  quite  a  knot  faster  than  their  designed  speed, 
and  since  no  similar  advance  hi  speed  was  noticeable 
in  the  case  of  the  fleeing  German  cruisers  it  could 
be  concluded  that  the  training  of  our  engineers 
was  fully  as  superior  to  theirs  as  was  unquestionably 
the  training  of  our  long-service  seamen  and  gunners 
superior  to  that  of  their  short-service  crews.  As 
the  fleets  grew  larger  our  superiority  in  personnel 
tended  to  become  more  marked.  We  had  an 
almost  unlimited  maritime  population  upon  which 
to  draw  for  the  few  thousands  whom  we  needed — 
before  the  war  the  professional  Navy  was  almost 
wholly  recruited  from  the  seaboards  of  the  South 
of  England — we  had  still  as  our  reserves  the  east 
and  west  coasts  of  England  and  Scotland.  But 
Germany,  even  before  the  war,  could  not  man 
her  fleets  from  her  scanty  resources  of  men  from 
her  seaboards,  and  more  and  more  had  to  depend 
upon  partially  trained  landsmen.  If  one  adds 
to  this  initial  disadvantage  in  the  quality  of  the 
German  sea  recruits,  that  other  disadvantage  of 
the  cooping  up  of  her  fleets — sea  training  can  only 
be  acquired  fully  upon  the  open  seas — while  ours 
were  continually  at  work,  patrolling,  cruising, 
practising  gunnery,  and  so  on,  it  will  be  seen  that 
on  the  one  side  the  personal  efficiency  of  officers 
and  men,  upon  which  the  value  of  machines  wholly 
depends,  tended  continually  to  advance,  while 
upon  the  German  side  it  tended  as  continually 
to  recede.  It  was  the  old  story.  Nelson's  sea- 


FROM  STRENGTH  TO  STRENGTH   203 

worn  fleet,  though  actually  smaller  in  numbers  and 
weaker  in  guns  than  those  of  the  French  and 
Spaniards  at  Trafalgar,  was  so  infinitely  superior 
to  its  opponents  in  trained  officers  and  men  that 
the  result  of  the  battle  was  never  for  a  moment 
in  doubt. 

At  the  time  of  the  Dogger  Bank  action,  which 
confirmed  our  Navy  in  its  growing  conviction  that 
Speed  and  Power  of  guns  were  of  supreme  impor- 
tance, the  Germans  had  no  guns  afloat  larger  in 
calibre  than  12-inch  and  seven  of  the  ships  in 
their  first  line  were  armed  with  weapons  of  11 
inches.  They  then  mustered  hi  all  twenty  big 
ships  which  they  could  place  in  the  battle  line 
against  our  available  thirty-two,  and  of  their 
twenty  not  more  than  thirteen  were  of  a  class  com- 
parable even  with  our  older  Dreadnoughts.  They 
had  nothing  to  touch  our  twelve  Orions,  King 
Georges,  Iron  Dukes,  all  with  13.5-inch  guns,  and 
upon  a  supreme  eminence  by  themselves  stood 
the  two  new  Queen  Elizabeths  which,  if  need  be, 
could  have  disposed  of  any  half-dozen  of  the  weaker 
German  battleships.  In  the  Jutland  Battle  four 
Queen  Elizabeths — Barham,  Warspite,  Valiant  and 
Malaya — fought  for  an  hour  and  more  the  whole 
High  Seas  Fleet.  It  is  no  wonder,  then,  that  the 
Germans  did  not  come  out  far  enough  for  Jellicoe 
to  get  at  them.  And  yet  there  were  silly  people 
ashore  who  still  prattled  about  the  inactivity  of 
the  Royal  Navy  and  asked  one  another  "what  it 
was  doing." 

There  is  a  good  story  told  of  the  scorn  of  the 
professional  seamen  afloat  for  the  querulous 
civilians  ashore.  When  the  Lion  was  summoned 
to  lead  the  battle  cruisers  in  the  Dogger  Bank 


204  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

action  she  was  lying  in  the  Forth  undergoing  some 
slight  repairs.  As  she  got  up  steam  a  gang  of  dock- 
yard mateys,  at  work  upon  her,  pleaded  anxiously 
to  be  put  ashore.  They  had  no  stomach  for  a  battle. 
But  there  was  no  time  to  worry  about  their  feel- 
ings; they  were  carried  into  action  with  the  ship, 
and  when  the  shots  began  to  fly  they  were  con- 
temptuously assured  by  the  grizzled  old  sea  dogs, 
that  they  were  in  for  the  time  of  their  lives.  "  You 

wanted  to  know,"  said  they,  "what  the  b y 

Navy's  doing  and  now  you're  going  to  see." 

While  the  power  of  the  Grand  Fleet  dominated 
the  war  at  sea,  some  thirty  supply  ships  and 
transports  safely  crossed  the  English  Channel 
every  day,  and  troops  poured  into  Britain  and 
France  from  every  part  of  our  wide-flung  Empire. 
But  for  that  silent,  brooding,  ever-expanding 
Grand  Fleet,  watching  over  the  world's  seas  from 
its  eyries  on  the  Scottish  coast,  not  a  man  or  a 
gun  or  a  pound  of  stores  could  have  been  sent  to 
France,  not  a  man  could  have  been  moved  from 
India  or  Australia,  Canada  or  New  Zealand.  But 
for  that  "idle"  Grand  Fleet  the  war  would  have 
been  over  and  Germany  victorious  before  the 
summer  and  autumn  of  1914  had  passed  into  winter. 
During  the  war  sea  power,  as  always  hi  naval 
history,  has  depended  absolutely  upon  the  power 
in  men,  in  ships,  and  in  guns  of  the  first  battle 
line. 

At  the  beginning  of  1915,  in  addition  to  the 
completed  ships  which  I  have  already  mentioned, 
Great  Britain  had  under  construction  three  ad- 
ditional Queen  Elizabeths — Malaya,  Barham,  and 
Valiant — all  of  twenty-five  knot  speed  and  carry- 
ing eight  15-inch  guns  apiece.  She  had  also  on 


FROM  STRENGTH  TO  STRENGTH   205 

the  stocks  in  various  stages  of  growth  five  Royal 
Sovereign  Battleships  designed  for  very  heavy 
armour,  with  a  speed  of  from  twenty-one  to  twenty- 
two  knots,  and  to  be  equipped  with  eight  15-inch 
guns  each. 


It  will  be  seen  how  completely  during  the  war 
the  Royal  Navy  had  "gone  nap"  on  the  ever 
faster  ship  and  the  ever  bigger  gun.  Calculations 
might  be  partially  upset  by  weather  and  visibility 
— as  they  were  in  the  Jutland  Battle — but  even 
under  the  worst  conditions  speed  and  gun  power 
came  triumphantly  by  their  own.  Our  fast  and 
powerful  battle  cruisers,  and  our  four  fast  and 
more  powerful  Queen  Elizabeths — the  name  ship 
was  not  present — could  not  on  that  day  of  low 
visibility  choose  their  most  effective  ranges,  but 
the  speed  and  power  of  the  battle  cruisers 
enabled  them  to  outflank  the  enemy  while  the 
speed  and  hitting  power  of  the  Barham,  Valiant, 
Warspite  and  Malaya  held  up  the  whole  of  the 
German  High  Seas  Fleet  until  Jellicoe  with  his 
overwhelming  squadrons  could  come  to  their 
support.  Even  under  the  worst  conditions  of 
light,  speed  and  gun  power  had  fully  justified 
themselves. 

Let  us  for  a  moment  consider  what  are  the 
advantages  and  disadvantages  of  the  bigger  and 
bigger  gun;  the  advantages  of  speed  will  be 
obvious  to  all.  To  take  first  the  disadvantages. 
Big  guns  mean  weight,  and  weight  is  inconsistent 
with  speed.  The  bigger  the  gun,  the  heavier  it 
is,  the  heavier  its  mountings,  its  turrets,  and  its 
ammunition.  Therefore  in  order  that  weight  may 


206  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

be  kept  down  and  high  speed  attained,  the  ships 
which  carry  big  guns  must  carry  fewer  guns  than 
those  which  are  more  lightly  armed.  The  Orions, 
K.G.  Fives,  and  Iron  Dukes  each  bear  ten 
13.5-inch  guns  within  their  turrets,  but  the  battle 
cruisers  of  which  the  Lion  is  the  flagship,  built 
for  speed,  can  carry  no  more  than  eight.  The 
Queen  Elizabeth  battleships,  designed  to  carry 
15-inch  guns  and  to  have  a  speed  of  twenty-five 
knots,  mount  eight  guns  only  against  the  ten  of 
the  earlier  and  more  lightly  armed  super-Dread- 
noughts. Speed  and  weight  being  inconsistent, 
increase  in  speed  and  increase  in  size  of  guns  can 
only  be  reconciled  by  reducing  the  number  of 
guns  carried.  The  fewer  the  guns  carried,  the 
fewer  the  salvos  that  can  be  fired  at  an  enemy 
during  a  fixed  time  even  if  the  rate  of  fire  of  the 
big  guns  can  be  kept  so  high  as  that  of  the  smaller 
ones.  When  opposing  ships  are  moving  fast  upon 
divergent  courses,  ranges  are  continually  varying 
and  the  difficulty  of  making  effective  hits  is  very 
great  indeed.  The  elaboration  of  checks  and 
controls,  which  are  among  the  most  cherished  of 
naval  gunnery  secrets,  are  designed  to  increase  the 
proportion  of  hits  to  misses  which  must  always 
be  small  even  when  the  light  is  most  favourable. 
If  the  heavy  gun  were  no  more  accurate  than  the 
light  one,  then  the  small  number  of  guns  carried 
and  the  reduced  number  of  salvos,  would  probably 
annul  the  benefit  derived  from  the  greater  smashing 
power  of  the  heavier  shell  when  it  did  hit  an  enemy. 
The  ever-expanding  gun  has,  therefore,  disadvan- 
tages, notable  disadvantages,  but  as  we  shall  see 
they  are  far  more  than  outweighed  by  its  great  and 
conspicuous  merits. 


FROM  STRENGTH  TO  STRENGTH    207 

The  first  overwhelming  advantage  of  the  big  gun 
is  the  gain  in  accuracy.  It  is  far  more  accurate 
than  the  lighter  one.  As  the  fighting  range  in- 
creases so  does  the  elevation  of  a  gun,  needed  to 
reach  an  object  within  the  visible  limits  of  the 
horizon,  sensibly  increase.  But  the  bigger  the 
gun  and  the  heavier  its  shell,  the  flatter  becomes 
its  trajectory.  And  a  flat  trajectory — low  eleva- 
tion— means  not  only  more  accurate  shooting, 
but  a  larger  danger  zone  for  an  enemy  ship.  At 
24,000  yards  (twelve  sea  miles)  a  12-inch  shell  is 
falling  very  steeply  and  can  rarely  be  pumped 
upon  an  enemy's  deck,  but  a  15-inch  shell  is  still 
travelling  upon  a  fairly  flat  path  which  makes  it 
effective  against  the  sides  and  upper  works  of  a 
ship  as  well  as  against  its  deck.  The  15-inch  shell 
thus  has  the  bigger  mark.  It  also  suffers  less  from 
deflection  and,  what  is  more  important,  maintains 
its  speed  for  a  much  longer  tune  than  a  lighter 
shell.  Increased  weight  means  increased  momen- 
tum. When  the  15-inch  shell  gets  home  upon 
its  bigger  mark  at  a  long  range  it  has  still  speed 
and  weight  (momentum)  with  which  to  penetrate 
protective  armour.  When  it  does  hit  and  penetrate 
there  is  no  comparison  in  destructiveness  between 
the  effect  of  a  15-inch  shell  and  one  of  twelve  inches. 
The  larger  shell  is  nearly  two  and  a  half  tunes  as 
heavy  as  the  smaller  one  (1,960  Ibs.  against  850), 
and  the  power  of  the  bursting  charge  of  the  big 
shell  is  more  than  six  times  that  of  the  smaller 
one.  Far-distant  ships,  big  ships,  can  be  destroyed 
by  15-inch  shells  when,  even  if  occasionally  hit 
by  one  of  twelve  inches,  they  would  be  little  more 
than  peppered.  The  big  gun  therefore  gives  to 
our  Navy  a  larger  mark,  greater  accuracy  arising 


208  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

from  the  lower  trajectory,  and  far  greater  destruc- 
tive hitting  power  in  comparison  with  the  lighter 
guns  carried  by  most  of  the  German  battleships. 
But  the  advantages  of  the  big  gun  do  not  end 
here.  Gunnery,  in  spite  of  all  its  elaboration  of 
checks  and  controls,  is  largely  a  matter  of  trial 
and  error.  All  that  the  checks  and  controls  are 
designed  to  do  is  to  reduce  the  proportion  of  errors; 
they  cannot  by  themselves  ensure  accurate  shoot- 
ing. Accuracy  is  obtained  through  correcting  the 
errors  by  actual  observation  of  the  results  of  shots. 
This  is  called  "spotting."  When  shells  are  seen 
to  fall  too  short,  or  too  far,  or  too  much  to  one 
side  or  the  other,  the  error  in  direction  or  elevation 
is  at  once  corrected.  But  everything  depends 
upon  exact  meticulous  spotting,  an  almost  in- 
credibly difficult  matter  at  the  long  ranges  of 
modern  sea  fighting.  Imagine  oneself  looking  for 
the  splash  of  a  shell,  bursting  on  contact  with  the 
sea  ten  or  more  miles  away,  and  estimating  just 
how  far  that  splash  is  short  or  over  or  to  one  side 
of  the  object  aimed  at.  It  will  be  obvious  to  any- 
one that  the  position  of  a  big  splash  can  be  gauged 
more  surely  than  that  of  a  small  one,  and  that  the 
huge  splash  of  the  big  shell,  which  sends  up  a 
column  of  water  hundreds  of  feet  high,  can  be 
seen  and  placed  by  spotting  officers  who  would  be 
quite  baffled  if  they  were  observing  shots  from 
12-inch  weapons.  In  this  respect  also,  that  of 
spotting  results,  the  big  gun  with  its  big  shell, 
greatly  assists  the  elimination  of  inevitable  errors 
and  increases  the  proportion  of  effective  hits  to 
misses.  If  then  we  get  from  bigger  guns  a  higher 
proportion  of  hits,  and  a  much  greater  effective- 
ness from  those  hits,  then  the  bigger  gun  has 


FROM  STRENGTH  TO  STRENGTH    209 

paid  a  handsome  dividend  on  its  cost  and  has 
more  than  compensated  us  for  the  reduction  in 
its  numbers.  Where  the  useful  limit  will  be 
reached  one  cannot  say,  nothing  but  experience 
in  war  can  decide,  but  the  visible  horizon  being 
limited  to  about  fifteen  sea  miles,  there  must  come 
a  stage  in  gun  expansion  when  increase  in  size, 
accuracy,  and  destructiveness  will  cease  to  com- 
pensate for  smallness  of  numbers.  And  the  limit 
will  be  more  quickly  reached  when  during  an 
action  the  light  does  not  allow  the  big  gun  to  use 
its  accuracy  at  longer  ranges  to  the  fullest  advan- 
tage. 


Although  one's  attention  is  apt  to  be  absorbed 
by  the  great  ships  of  the  first  battle  line,  the 
ultimate  Fount  of  naval  Power,  a  Navy  which 
built  only  vast  battleships  and  cruisers  would  be 
quite  unable  to  control  the  seas.  A  navy's  daily 
work  does  not  consist  of  battles.  For  the  main 
purposes  of  watching  the  seas,  hunting  submarines, 
blockading  an  enemy,  and  guarding  the  com- 
munications of  ourselves  and  our  Allies,  and  also 
for  protecting  our  big  ships  against  submarines 
and  other  mosquito  attacks,  we  needed  vast 
numbers  of  light  cruisers,  patrol  boats,  destroyers, 
armed  merchant  cruisers,  steam  drifters  and  so 
on,  and  these  had  to  be  built  or  adapted  with  as 
great  an  energy  as  that  devoted  to  turning  out 
the  monsters  of  the  first  battle  line.  The  con- 
struction of  light  cruisers  and  destroyers — the 
cavalry  of  the  seas — kept  pace  during  1915  and 
1916  with  that  of  the  big  fighting  ships,  while  the 
turning  out  of  the  light  fast  craft  essential  for 


210  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

hunting  down  enemy  submarines,  far  surpassed 
in  speed  and  other  building  operations.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  war  we  had  270  light  mosquito 
vessels;  at  the  end  of  1917  we  had  3,500! 

Nothing  like  the  tremendous  activity  in  warship 
building  during  1915  has  ever  been  seen  in  our 
country.  Mercantile  building  was  to  a  large  extent 
suspended,  labour  was  both  scarce  and  dear, 
builders  could  not  complete  commercial  contracts 
at  the  prices  named  in  them,  the  great  yards 
became  "  con  trolled  establishments"  with  priority 
claims  both  for  labour  and  material.  Conse- 
quently every  yard  which  could  add  to  the  Navy's 
strength,  whether  in  super-battleships  or  cruisers, 
destroyers  or  in  the  humble  mine  sweeper,  were 
put  on  to  war  work.  The  Clyde,  typical  of  the 
ship-building  rivers,  was  a  forest  of  scaffolding 
poles  from  Fairfield  to  Greenock  within  which 
huge  rusty  hulls — to  the  unaccustomed  eye  very 
unlike  new  vessels — grew  from  day  to  day  in  the 
open  almost  with  the  speed  of  mushrooms.  A  trip 
down  the  teeming  river  became  one  of  the  sights 
of  the  city  on  the  Clyde  and,  though  precautions 
were  taken  to  exclude  aliens,  the  Germans  must 
have  known  with  some  approach  to  accuracy  the 
numbers  and  nature  of  the  craft  which  were  under 
construction.  What  was  going  on  in  the  Clyde 
during  that  year  of  supreme  activity,  when  naval 
brains  were  unhampered  by  Parliament  or  the 
Treasury,  was  also  going  on  in  the  Tyne,  at  Barrow 
and  Birkenhead,  in  the  Royal  Dockyards — every- 
where day  and  night  the  Navy  was  growing  at  a 
speed  fully  three  times  as  great  as  in  any  year  in 
our  history. 


FROM  STRENGTH  TO  STRENGTH    211 

Twenty-two  months  after  war  broke  out,  in 
May  of  1916,  Jellicoe's  battle  line  had  been  strength- 
ened during  the  previous  twelve  months  by  the 
addition  of  no  less  than  seven  great  vessels.  Three 
more  Queen  Elizabeths  were  finished  and  so 
were  three  Royal  Sovereigns,  and  in  addition  a  fine 
battleship,  which  had  been  building  in  England  for 
Brazil,  was  taken  over  and  completed.  She  was 
named  the  Canada,  had  twenty-three  knots  of 
speed,  and  was  designed  to  carry  ten  14-inch  guns. 
There  were  thus  available  in  the  North  Sea, 
allowing  for  occasional  absences,  from  thirty-eight 
to  forty-two  great  ships  of  the  battle  line,  of 
which  no  fewer  than  eight  carried  15-inch  guns 
of  the  very  latest  design.  This  huge  piling  up 
of  strength  was  essential  not  only  to  provide 
against  possible  losses  but  to  ensure  that,  in 
spite  of  all  accidents,  an  immense  preponderance 
of  naval  power  would  always  be  available  should 
Germany  venture  to  put  her  fortunes  to  the  hazard 
of  battle.  And  accidents  did  occur.  The  coast 
lights  had  all  been  extinguished  and  ships  at  sea 
cruising  at  night  were  almost  buried  in  darkness. 
As  time  went  on  it  became  more  and  more  certain 
that  a  Battle  of  the  Giants  could  have  but  one 
result. 

I  have  now  carried  the  story  of  naval  expansion 
down  to  the  time  of  the  Jutland  Battle — May  31st, 
1916 — and  will  show  by  how  much  our  paper 
strength  had  increased  between  August  4th,  1914, 
and  that  date,  and  how  much  of  that  strength 
was  available  when  the  call  for  battle  rang  out. 
It  happened  that  none  of  our  battle  cruisers  was 
away  upon  overseas  enterprises,  so  that  we  were 
in  good  circumstances  to  meet  the  call.  There 


212  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

had  been  added  to  the  Fleets  one  battle  cruiser, 
the  Tiger,  with  13.5-inch  guns,  five  Queen  Eliza- 
beth battleships  with  15-inch  guns,  three  Royal 
Sovereign  battleships  with  15-inch  guns  (Royal 
Sovereign,  Royal  Oak  and  Revenge},  the  Erin 
battleship  with  13.5-inch  guns,  the  Canada  battle- 
ship with  14-inch  guns,  and  the  Agincourt  battle- 
ship with  fourteen  12-inch  guns.  At  the  beginning 
of  the  war  our  total  strength  in  battleships  and 
battle  cruisers  of  the  Dreadnought  and  later  more 
powerful  types  was  thirty-one,  so  that  on  May  31st 
we  had  in  and  near  the  North  Sea  a  full  paper 
total  of  forty-two  ships  of  the  battle  line. 

But  the  Royal  Navy  which  is  always  at  work 
upon  the  open  seas  can  never  have  at  any  one 
moment  its  whole  force  available  for  battle. 
The  squadrons  composing  the  Fleets  were,  how- 
ever, exceedingly  powerful,  far  more  than  sufficient 
for  the  complete  destruction  of  the  Germans  had 
they  dared  to  fight  out  the  action.  As  the  battle 
was  fought  the  main  burden  fell  upon  thirteen 
only  of  our  ships — Beatty's  four  Cat  battle  cruisers 
assisted  by  the  New  Zealand  and  Indefatigable, 
Hood's  three  battle  cruisers  of  the  Invincible  class, 
and  Evan-Thomas's  four  Queen  Elizabeth  battle- 
ships. Jellicoe's  available  main  Fleet  of  twenty- 
five  battleships,  including  two  Royal  Sovereigns 
with  15-inch  guns,  the  Canada  with  14-inch  guns, 
and  twelve  Orions,  K.G.  Fives  and  Iron  Dukes 
with  13.5-inch  guns,  which  was  robbed  of  its  fought- 
out  battle  by  the  enemy's  skilful  withdrawal, 
was  almost  sufficient  by  itself  to  have  eaten  up 
the  German  High  Seas  Fleet. 

During  the  battle  we  lost  the  Queen  Mary  with 
13.5-inch  guns,  and  the  Invincible  and  Inde- 


FROM  STRENGTH  TO  STRENGTH   213 

fatigable  with  12-inch  guns,  all  of  which  were 
battle  cruisers.  So  that  after  the  action  our  total 
battle  cruiser  strength  had  declined  from  ten  to 
seven,  while  our  battleship  strength  was  unim- 
paired. 


It  is  not  easy  to  be  quite  sure  of  what  the  Ger- 
mans had  managed  to  do  during  those  twenty- 
two  months  of  war.  I  have  given  them  credit 
for  completing  every  ship  which  it  was  possible 
for  tnem  to  complete.  They  were  too  fully  occupied 
with  building  submarines  to  attack  our  merchant 
ships,  too  fully  occupied  with  guns  and  shells  for 
land  fighting,  and  too  much  hampered  in  regard 
to  many  essential  materials  by  our  blockade,  to 
be  able  to  effect  more  than  the  best  possible. 
Rumour  from  time  to  time  credited  them  with 
the  construction  of  "surprise"  ships  carrying 
17-inch  guns,  but  nothing  unexpected  was  revealed 
when  the  clash  of  Fleets  came  on  May  31st,  1916. 
Huge  new  battleships  and  huge  new  guns  take  us 
at  the  very  least  fifteen  months  to  complete  at 
full  war  pressure — most  of  them  nearer  two  years 
— and  the  German  rate  of  construction,  even  when 
unhampered  by  a  blockade  and  the  calling  to  the 
army  of  all  available  men,  has  always  been  much 
slower  than  ours.  The  British  Admiralty  does 
not  work  in  the  dark  and  doubtless  knew  fully 
what  the  Germans  were  doing. 

If  we  credit  the  Germans  with  their  best  possible 
they  might  have  added,  by  May,  1916,  four 
battleships  and  two  battle  cruisers  to  their  High 
Seas  Fleet  as  it  existed  early  in  1915.  One  of 
the  battleships  was  the  Salamis,  which  was  building 


214  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

at  Stettin  for  Greece  when  the  war  broke  out. 
She  was  designed  for  speed  of  twenty-three  knots, 
and  to  carry  ten  14-inch  guns.  The  other  three 
battleships  were  copies  of  our  Queen  Elizabeths, 
though  slower  by  about  four  knots.  They  were 
to  have  been  equipped  with  eight  15-inch  guns, 
though  Germany  had  not  before  the  war  managed 
to  make  any  naval  guns  larger  than  12-inch. 
The  battle  cruisers  (Hindenburg  and  Lutzow) 
were  vessels  of  twenty-seven  knots  with  eight 
12-inch  guns,  not  to  be  compared  with  our  Cats 
and  no  better  than  our  comparatively  old  class  of 
Invincibles. 

The  story  of  the  Salamis  and  its  14-inch  guns 
forms  a  very  precious  piece  of  war  history.  The 
guns  for  this  Greek  battleship  had  been  ordered  in 
America,  a  country  which  has  specialised  in  guns 
of  that  calibre.  But  when  Germany  took  over  the 
ship  the  guns  had  not  been  delivered  at  Stettin, 
and  never  were  delivered.  They  had  quite  another 
destination  and  employment.  Our  Admiralty  in- 
terposed, in  its  grimly  humorous  way,  bought  the 
guns  in  America,  brought  them  over  to  this  country, 
and  used  the  weapons  intended  for  the  Salamis  to 
bombard  the  Germans  at  Zeebrugge  and  the  Turks 
in  Gallipoli.  One  may  speculate  as  to  which 
potentate  was  the  more  irritated  by  this  piece  of 
poetic  justice — the  Kaiser  in  Berlin  or  his  brother- 
in-law  "Tino"  in  Athens. 

At  their  utmost,  therefore,  the  Germans  could 
not  have  added  more  than  five  vessels  to  their 
first  line  (they  had  lost  one  battle  cruiser),  thus 
raising  it  at  the  utmost  to  twenty-five  battleships 
and  cruisers,  as  compared  with  our  maximum  of 
forty-two  much  more  powerful  and  faster  ships. 


FROM  STRENGTH  TO  STRENGTH   215 

Four  of  their  battleships  were  the  obsolete  Nassaus 
with  twelve  11 -inch  guns  and  two  of  their  battle 
cruisers  (Moltke  and  Seydlitz)  were  also  armed  with 
11-inch  guns.  If  a  successful  fight  with  our  Grand 
Fleet  was  hopeless  in  August,  1914,  it  was  still 
more  hopeless  in  May,  1916.  We  had  not  doubled 
our  lead  in  actual  numbers  but  had  much  more 
than  doubled  it  in  speed  and  power  of  the  vessels 
available  for  a  battle  in  the  North  Sea.  In  gun 
power  we  had  nearly  twice  Germany's  strength  at 
the  beginning;  we  had  not  far  from  three  times 
her  effective  strength  by  the  end  of  May  of  1916. 
It  is  indeed  probable  that  Germany  was  not  so 
strong  in  big  ships  and  guns  as  I  have  here 
reckoned.  She  did  not  produce  so  many  in  the 
Jutland  Battle.  I  can  account  for  five  battle 
cruisers  and  sixteen  battleships  (excluding  pre- 
Dreadnoughts)  making  twenty-one  in  all.  I  have 
allowed  her,  however,  the  best  possible,  but  long 
before  the  year  1916  it  must  have  been  brought 
bitterly  home  to  the  German  Sea  Command  that 
by  no  device  of  labour,  thought,  and  machinery 
could  they  produce  great  ships  to  range  in  battle 
with  ours.  We  had  progressed  from  strength  to 
strength  at  so  dazzling  a  speed  that  we  could  not 
possibly  be  overtaken.  Had  not  the  hare  gone  to 
sleep,  the  tortoise  could  never  have  come  up  with 
it — and  the  British  hare  had  no  intention  of  sleep- 
ing to  oblige  the  German  tortoise.  There  is  every 
indication  that  Germany  soon  gave  up  the  contest 
in  battleships  and  put  her  faith  in  super-sub- 
marines, and  in  Zeppelins,  the  one  to  scout  and 
raid,  and  the  other  to  sink  merchant  vessels  and 
so  between  them  either  to  starve  or  terrify  England 
into  seeking  an  end  of  the  war. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE    CRUISE    OF   THE    " GLASGOW" 

PART  I. — Rio  TO  CORONEL 
(July  27th  to  Nov.  1st,  1914) 

EVERYONE  has  heard  of  the  light  cruiser  Glasgow, 
how  she  fought  at  Coronel,  and  then  escaped, 
and  is  now  the  sole  survivor  among  the  warships 
which  then  represented  Great  Britain  and  Germany; 
how  she  fought  again  off  the  Falkland  Islands, 
and  with  the  aid  of  the  Cornwall  sank  the  Leipzig', 
how  after  many  days  of  weary  search  she  discovered 
the  Dresden  in  shelter  at  Juan  Fernandez,  and 
with  the  Kent  finally  brought  that  German  cruiser 
to  a  last  account.  These  things  are  known.  But 
of  her  other  movements  and  adventures  between 
the  declaration  of  war  in  August  of  1914  and  that 
final  spectacular  scene  in  Cumberland  Bay,  Juan 
Fernandez,  upon  March  14th,  1915,  nothing  has 
been  written.  It  is  a  very  interesting  story,  and 
I  propose  to  write  it  now.  I  will  relate  how  she 
began  her  fighting  career  as  the  forlorn  solitary 
representative  of  English  sea  power  in  the  South 
Atlantic,  and  how  by  gradual  stages,  as  if  endowed 
with  some  compelling  power  of  magnetic  attrac- 
tion, she  became  the  focus  of  a  British  and  German 
naval  concentration  which  at  last  extended  over 

216 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW          217 

half  the  world.  This  scrap  of  a  fast  light  cruiser, 
of  4,800  tons,  in  appearance  very  much  like  a  large 
torpedo-boat  destroyer,  with  her  complement  of 
370  men,  worthily  played  her  part  in  the  Empire's 
work,  which  is  less  the  fighting  of  great  battles 
than  the  sleepless  policing  of  the  seas.  The  battle- 
ships and  battle  cruisers  are  the  fount  of  power; 
they  by  their  fighting  might  hold  the  command 
of  the  seas,  but  the  Navy's  daily  work  in  the 
outer  oceans  is  done,  not  by  huge  ships  of  the 
line,  but  by  light  cruisers,  such  as  the  Glasgow, 
of  which  at  the  outbreak  of  the  war  we  had  far  too 
few  for  our  needs. 

In  July,  1914,  the  Glasgow  was  the  sole  repre- 
sentative of  British  sea  power  upon  the  Atlantic 
coast  of  South  America.  She  had  the  charge  of 
our  interests  from  a  point  some  400  miles  north  of 
Rio,  right  down  to  the  Falkland  Islands  in  the 
cold  south.  She  was  a  modern  vessel  of  4,800 
tons,  first  commissioned  in  1911  by  Captain  Marcus 
Hill,  and  again  in  September,  1912,  by  Captain  John 
Luce,  and  the  officers  and  men  who  formed  her 
company  in  July  nearly  four  years  ago,  when  the 
shadow  of  war  hung  over  the  world.  She  was  well 
equipped  to  range  over  the  thousands  of  miles  of  sea 
of  which  she  was  the  solitary  guardian.  Her  turbine 
engines,  driving  four  screws,  could  propel  her  at 
a  speed  exceeding  twenty-six  knots  (over  thirty 
miles  an  hour)  when  her  furnaces  were  fed  with 
coal  and  oil ;  and  with  her  two  6-inch  and  ten  4-inch 
guns  of  new  pattern  she  was  more  than  a  match 
for  any  German  light  cruiser  which  might  have 
been  sent  against  her. 

Upon  July  27th,  1914,  while  lying  at  Rio  de 
Janeiro  her  captain  received  the  first  intimation 


218  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

that  the  strain  in  Europe  might  result  in  war 
between  England  and  Germany.  Upon  July 
29th  the  warning  became  more  urgent,  and  upon 
July  31st  the  activity  of  the  German  merchant 
ships  in  the  harbour  showed  that  they  also  had 
been  notified  of  the  imminence  of  hostilities.  They 
loaded  coal  and  stores  into  certain  selected  vessels 
to  their  utmost  capacity,  and  clearly  purposed 
to  employ  them  as  supply  ships  for  any  of  their 
cruisers  which  might  be  sent  to  the  South  Atlantic. 
At  that  time  there  were,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  no 
German  cruisers  nearer  than  the  east  coast  of 
Mexico.  The  Karlsruhe  had  just  come  out  to 
relieve  the  Dresden,  which  had  been  conveying 
refugees  of  the  Mexican  Revolution  to  Kingston, 
Jamaica.  Thence  she  sailed  for  Haiti,  met  there 
the  Karlsruhe,  and  made  the  exchange  of  captains 
on  July  27th.  Both  these  cruisers  were  ordered 
to  remain,  but  a  third  German  cruiser  in  Mexican 
waters,  the  Strassburg,  rushed  away  for  home  and 
safely  got  back  to  Germany  before  war  was  declared 
on  August  4th.  Thus  the  Dresden  and  Karlsruhe 
were  left,  and  over  against  them  in  the  West 
Indies  lay  Rear-Admiral  Cradock  with  four 
"County"  cruisers — Suffolk,  Essex,  Lancaster,  and 
Berwick  (sisters  of  the  Monmouth) — and  the  fast 
cruiser  Bristol,  a  sister  of  the  Glasgow.  Though 
the  Glasgow,  lying  alone  at  Rio,  had  many  anxieties 
— chiefly  at  first  turning  upon  that  question  of 
supply  which  governs  the  movements  of  war  ships 
in  the  outer  seas — she  had  no  reason  to  expect  an 
immediate  descent  of  the  Dresden  and  Karlsruhe 
from  the  north.  Cradock  could  look  after  them 
if  they  had  not  the  good  luck  to  evade  his  attentions. 
Upon  August  1st,  the  Glasgow  was  cleared  for 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW          219 


THE  CEUISB  OT  THE  "  GLASGOW." 


220  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

war,  and  all  luxuries  and  superfluities,  all  those 
things  which  make  life  tolerable  in  a  small  cruiser, 
were  ruthlessly  cast  forth  and  put  into  store  at  Rio. 
She  was  well  supplied  with  provisions  and  am- 
munition, but  coal,  as  it  always  is,  was  an  urgent 
need — not  only  coal  for  the  immediate  present, 
but  for  the  indefinite  future.  For  immediate 
necessities  the  Glasgow  bought  up  the  cargo  of  a 
British  collier  in  Rio,  and  ordered  her  captain 
to  follow  the  cruiser  when  she  sallied  forth.  Upon 
August  3rd,  the  warnings  from  home  became 
definite,  the  Glasgow  coaled  and  took  in  oil  till  her 
bunkers  were  bursting,  made  arrangements  with 
the  English  authorities  in  Rio  for  the  transmission 
of  telegrams  to  the  secret  base  which  she  proposed 
to  establish,  and  late  in  the  evening  of  August  4th, 
crept  out  of  Rio  in  the  darkness  with  all  lights 
out.  During  that  fourth  day  of  August  the  pass- 
ing minutes  seemed  to  stretch  into  years.  The 
anchorage  where  the  Glasgow  lay  was  in  the  outer 
harbour,  and  she  was  continually  passed  by  Ger- 
man merchant  steamers  crowding  in  to  seek  the 
security  of  a  neutral  port.  War  was  very  near. 
Captain  Luce  had  already  selected  a  secret 
base,  where  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  coal  in  shelter 
outside  territorial  waters.  His  collier  had  been 
ordered  to  follow  as  soon  as  permitted,  and  he 
headed  off  to  inspect  the  barren  rocks,  uninhabited 
except  by  a  lighthouse-keeper,  which  were  to  be 
his  future  link  with  home.  His  luck  held,  for  the 
first  ship  he  encountered  was  a  big  English  steamer 
bound  for  Rio  with  coal  for  the  Brazilian  railways. 
In  order  to  be  upon  the  safe  side,  he  commandeered 
this  collier  also,  and  made  her  attend  him  to  his 
base.  There,  to  his  relief,  he  found  that  shelter 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW          221 

from  the  surf  could  be  found,  and  that  it  was 
possible  to  use  the  desolate  spot  as  a  coaling  base 
and  keep  the  supply  ships  outside  territorial  waters. 
He  used  it  then  and  afterwards;  so  did  the  other 
cruisers,  Good  Hope  and  Monmouth,  which  came 
out  to  him,  so  also  did  that  large  squadron  months 
later  which  made  of  this  place  a  rendezvous  and 
an  essential  storehouse  on  the  journey  to  the 
Falklands  and  to  the  end  of  von  Spec.  We  were 
always  most  careful  to  keep  on  the  right  side  of 
the  Law. 

I  will  not  give  to  this  base  of  the  Glasgow  its 
true  name;  let  us  call  it  the  Pirates'  Lair,  and 
restore  to  it  the  romantic  flavour  of  irresponsible 
buccaneering  which  I  do  not  doubt  that  it  enjoyed 
a  century  or  so  earlier.  In  the  Glasgow's  day  it 
mounted  a  lighthouse  and  an  exceedingly  in- 
quisitive keeper  whom  German  Junkers  would 
have  terrorised,  but  whom  the  kindly  English, 
themselves  to  some  extent  trespassers,  left  un- 
harmed to  the  enjoyment  of  his  curiosity.  He, 
lucky  man,  did  not  know  that  there  was  a  war  on. 

Realise,  if  you  can,  the  feelings  of  the  officers 
and  men  of  this  small  English  cruiser  lying  isolated 
from  the  world  in  her  Pirates'  Lair.  Their  impro- 
vised base,  not  far  from  the  main  trade  routes, 
might  at  any  moment  have  been  discovered — as 
indeed  it  was  before  very  long;  it  was  the  territory 
of  a  neutral  country,  a  country  most  friendly 
then  and  afterwards,  but  bound  to  observe  its 
declaration  of  neutrality.  They  knew  that  coal 
and  store  ships  from  England  would  be  sent  out, 
but  did  not  know  whether  they  would  arrive. 
They  were  in  wireless  touch  with  the  British  repre- 
sentatives at  Rio,  Pernambuco,  and  Montevideo, 


222  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

but  authentic  news  came  in  scraps  intermingled 
with  the  wildest  rumour.  They,  or  rather  their 
captain,  had  to  sort  the  grams  of  essential  fact 
from  the  chaff  of  fiction.  As  the  month  of 
August  unfolded,  their  news  of  the  war  came 
chiefly  from  German  wireless,  and  those  of  us 
who  lived  through  and  remember  those  early 
weeks  of  war  also  remember  that  the  news  from 
enemy  sources  had  no  cheerful  sound.  For  some 
weeks  they  were  free  from  anxiety  for  supplies, 
provided  that  their  base  could  be  retained,  yet 
the  future  was  blank.  I  do  not  think  that  they 
worried  overmuch;  the  worst  time  they  had 
lived  through  was  during  those  few  days  in  Rio 
before  war  broke  out,  and  those  days  immediately 
afterwards,  when  they  were  seeking  those  corners 
of  their  Lair  least  exposed  to  gales  and  surf.  Very 
often  coaling  was  impossible;  more  often  it  was 
both  difficult  and  dangerous. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  for  many  weeks — 
until  well  into  September — the  Glasgow  heard 
nothing  of  Cradock  and  his  West  Indies  Squadron. 
Yet  it  was  so.  Cradock  in  the  Suffolk  had  on 
August  5th  met  the  Karlsruhe  coaling  at  sea,  and 
signalled  to  the  fast  Bristol  to  look  after  her.  The 
Bristol  got  upon  the  chase  and  fired  a  shot  or  two, 
but,  speedy  though  she  was,  the  Karlsruhe  ran 
away  from  her  and  was  seen  no  more  and  heard  of 
no  more  until  she  began  her  ravages  upon  steamers 
to  the  South  of  Pernambuco.  Cradock,  thinking 
she  had  gone  north,  and  moreover  having  charge 
of  the  whole  North  Atlantic  trade  on  its  western 
side,  became  farther  and  farther  separated  from 
the  Glasgow,  and  even  went  so  far  away  as  Halifax. 
Meanwhile  the  Dresden  slipped  down  and  entered 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW          223 

the  Glasgow's  sea  area  on  August  9th,  though  her 
movements  were  not  yet  known.  On  the  13th 
Captain  Luce  learned  that  the  Monmouth  was  com- 
ing out  to  him  under  a  captain  who  was  his  junior, 
so  that  upon  himself  would  still  rest  the  responsi- 
bility for  the  South  Atlantic.  He  was  now  begin- 
ning to  get  some  news  upon  which  he  could  act, 
and  already  suspected  that  the  Dresden  or  the 
Karlsruhe,  or  both,  had  broken  away  for  the  south. 
He  could  hear  the  Telefunken  wireless  calls  of  the 
Dresden  to  her  attendant  colliers  from  somewhere 
in  the  north  a  thousand  miles  away.  During  his 
cruises  from  the  Lair  he  was  always  on  the  look  out 
for  her,  and  once,  on  the  16th,  thought  that  he  had 
her  under  his  guns.  But  the  warship  which  he 
had  sighted  proved  to  be  a  Brazilian,  and  the 
thirst  of  the  Glasgow's  company  for  battle  went 
for  a  while  unslaked.  The  Dresden,  for  which  the 
Glasgow  was  searching,  had  coaled  at  the  Rocas 
Islands,  there  met  the  Baden,  a  collier  of  twelve 
knots,  carrying  5,000  tons  of  coal,  and  together 
the  two  vessels  made  for  the  south  and  remained 
together  until  after  the  Falkland  Islands  action 
had  been  fought.  The  Dresden  picked  up  a  second 
collier,  the  Preussen,  and  set  her  course  for  the 
small  barren  Trinidad  Island,  another  old  Pirates' 
Lair  some  500  miles  from  that  of  the  Glasgow,  at 
which  she  in  her  turn  established  a  temporary  base. 
At  one  moment  the  Dresden  and  Glasgow  were  not 
far  apart,  the  wireless  calls  sounded  near,  yet  they 
did  not  meet.  This  was  on  the  18th,  when  the 
Glasgow  was  coaling  at  her  base,  and  two  days 
before  she  went  north  to  join  up  with  the  Monmouth 
off  Pernambuco. 

This  journey  to  the  north  coincided  hi  time  with 


-224  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

the  Dresden's  passage  to  Trinidad  Island,  so  that 
by  the  20th  the  two  cruisers  were  again  a  thousand 
miles  apart,  but  with  their  positions  reversed. 
While  the  Glasgow  had  been  going  up,  the  Dresden 
had  been  going  south  and  east.  For  awhile  we 
will  leave  the  Dresden,  which  after  spending  two 
days  under  the  lee  of  Trinidad  Island  went  on  her 
way  to  the  south,  drawing  farther  and  farther 
away  from  the  Glasgow  and  more  and  more  out  of 
our  picture.  Her  movements  were  from  time  to 
time  revealed  by  captures  of  British  ships,  of 
which  the  crews  were  sent  ashore.  Her  captain, 
Liidecke,  at  no  time  made  a  systematic  business 
of  preying  upon  merchant  traffic  and  upon  him 
rests  no  charge  of  inhumanity.  It  may  be  that 
commerce  raiding  and  murder  did  not  please  him; 
it  may  be  that  he  was  under  orders  to  make  his 
way  at  the  leisurely  gait  of  his  collier  Baden — he 
left  the  Preussen  behind  at  Trinidad  Island — 
towards  the  Chilian  coast,  and  the  ultimate  meeting 
with  von  Spee. 

At  sea  off  Pernambuco  on  August  20th,  the 
Glasgow  met  the  Monmouth,  which  had  been  com- 
missioned on  August  4th,  mainly  with  naval 
reservists,  and  hastily  despatched  to  the  South 
Atlantic.  Rumour  still  pointed  to  the  presence 
of  the  Dresden  in  the  vicinity,  and  it  seemed  likely 
that  she  might  meditate  an  attack  upon  our 
merchant  shipping  in  the  waters  afterwards  greatly 
favoured  by  the  Karlsruhe.  The  two  English 
cruisers  remained  in  the  north  for  a  week,  hearing 
much  German  wireless,  which  was  that  of  the 
Karlsruhe,  and  not  of  the  Dresden.  On  the  night 
of  the  27th  the  armed  liner  Otranto  heralded  her 
approach,  and  on  the  following  day  the  Glasgow 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW         223 

met  her  at  the  Rocas  Islands.  Captain  Luce  had 
now  progressed  from  the  command  of  one  cruiser 
to  the  control  of  quite  a  squadron,  three  ships. 
Already  the  concentration  about  the  small  form 
of  the  Glasgow  had  begun. 

The  bigness  of  the  sea  and  the  difficulty  of  finding 
single  vessels,  though  one  may  be  equipped  with 
all  the  aids  of  cable  and  wireless  telegraphy,  will 
begin  to  be  realised.  I  have  told  how  the  Dresden 
passed  the  Glasgow  on  the  18th.  She  had  been 
at  the  Rocas  Islands  on  the  14th.  The  Karlsruhe, 
too,  had  been  at  the  Rocas  Islands  on  the  17th. 
She,  also,  had  come  south,  though  Cradock,  with 
his  squadron,  was  hunting  for  her  in  the  north 
up  to  the  far  latitudes  of  Halifax.  The  two 
German  cruisers,  which  had  seemed  so  far  away 
from  the  Glasgow  when  she  was  at  Rio  calculating 
possibilities  on  August  1st,  had  both  evaded  the 
West  Indies  squadron  and  penetrated  into  her 
own  slenderly  guarded  waters. 

Upon  August  30th  the  Glasgow,  Monmouth,  and 
Otranto  were  back  at  their  Pirates'  Lair,  which 
they  could  not  leave  for  long,  since  it  formed  their 
rather  precarious  base  of  supply,  and  there  they 
learned  that  the  Dresden  had  sunk  the  British 
steamer  Holmwood  far  to  the  south  off  Rio  Grande 
do  Sul  and  must  be  looked  after  at  once,  since 
she  might  have  it  in  mind  to  raid  our  big  shipping 
lines  with  the  River  Plate.  Here  on  the  31st 
they  learned  also  of  the  action  in  the  Heligoland 
Bight,  and  of  the  German  invasion  of  France,  and 
of  the  retreat  from  Mons.  The  land  war  seemed 
very  far  off,  but  very  ominous  to  those  Keepers 
of  the  South  Atlantic  in  their  borrowed  base  upon 
a  foreign  shore  thousands  of  miles  away. 


226  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

My  readers,  especially  those  who  are  the  more 
thoughtful,  may  ask  how  the  Glasgow  was  able 
with  a  clear  conscience  to  hie  away  to  the  north 
and  leave  during  all  those  weeks  our  big  shipping 
trade  to  Brazil,  Uruguay,  and  the  Argentine 
uncovered  from  the  raiding  exploits  of  all  the 
German  liners  lying  there  which  might  have  issued 
forth  as  armed  commerce  raiders.  The  answer 
is  that  none  of  the  German  liners  had  any  guns. 
The  spectre  of  concealed  guns  which  might  upon 
the  outbreak  of  war  be  mounted,  proved  to  be 
baseless.  The  German  liners  had  no  guns,  not 
even  the  Cap  Trafalgar,  sunk  later,  September 
14th,  off  Trinidad  Island  by  the  Carmania.  The 
Cap  Trafalgar's  guns  came  from  the  small  German 
gunboat  Eber,  which  had  arranged  a  meeting  with 
her  at  this  unofficial  German  base.  The  project 
of  arming  the  Cap  Trafalgar  was  quite  a  smart  one, 
but,  unfortunately  for  her,  the  first  use  to  which 
she  put  her  borrowed  weapons  was  the  last,  and 
she  went  down  in  one  of  the  most  spirited  fights 
of  the  whole  war.  The  Carmania  had  come  down 
from  the  north  in  the  train  of  Rear-Admiral 
Cradock. 

At  the  beginning  of  September  the  Glasgow  and 
the  Monmouth  shifted  down  south,  in  the  hope  of 
catching  the  Dresden  at  work  off  the  River  Plate. 
There  they  arrived  on  the  8th,  but  found  no  prey, 
though  rumours  were  many,  and  unrewarded 
searches  as  many.  The  Otranto  came  down  to 
join  them,  and  down  also  came  the  news  that 
Cradock  in  his  new  flagship,  the  Good  Hope,  sent 
out  to  him  from  England,  was  also  coming  to  take 
charge  of  the  operations.  Upon  September  llth 
the  Dresden  was  reported  to  be  far  down  towards 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW         227 

the  Straits  of  Magellan  and  for  the  time  out  of 
reach,  so  the  Glasgow's  squadron  returned  to  its 
northern  Lair  and  the  junction  with  the  Good  Hope. 
From  Cradock  the  officers  learned  that  the  Cornwall 
and  Bristol,  with  the  Carmania  and  Macedonia, 
had  arrived  on  the  station,  and  that  the  old  battle- 
ship Canopus  was  coming  out.  At  the  beginning 
of  the  war  there  had  been  one  ship  only  in  the 
South  Atlantic,  the  Glasgow;  now  there  were 
no  fewer  than  five  cruisers  and  three  armed  liners, 
and  a  battleship  was  on  the  way.  One  ship  had 
grown  into  eight,  was  about  to  grow  into  nine, 
and  before  long  was  destined  to  become  the  focus 
of  the  most  interesting  concentration  of  the  whole 
war. 

We  have  now  reached  September  18th,  by  which 
date  the  Dresden  was  far  off  towards  the  Pacific. 
She  reached  an  old  port  of  refuge  for  whalers 
near  Cape  Horn,  named  Orange  Bay,  on  the  5th, 
and  rested  there  till  the  16th.  At  Punta  Arenas 
she  had  picked  up  another  collier,  the  Santa  Isabel, 
and,  accompanied  by  her  pair  of  supply  vessels 
passed  slowly  round  the  Horn.  At  the  western 
end  of  the  Magellan  Straits  she  met  with  the 
Pacific  liner  Ortega,  which,  though  fired  upon  and 
called  to  stop,  pluckily  bolted  into  a  badly  charted 
channel  and  conveyed  the  news  of  the  Dresden's 
movements  to  the  English  squadron,  which  for 
awhile  had  lost  all  trace  of  her. 

It  was  not  yet  clear  to  Cradock,  who  was  now 
in  command  of  the  Southern  Squadron — to  dis- 
tinguish it  from  the  Northern  Squadron,  which 
presently  consisted  of  the  armoured  cruiser  Car- 
narvon (Rear- Admiral  Stoddart),  the  Defence,  the 
Cornwall,  the  Kent,  the  Bristol,  and  the  armed 


228  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

liner  Macedonia — it  was  not  yet  clear  that  the 
Dresden  was  bound  for  the  Pacific,  and  a  rendezvous 
with  von  Spee.  It  seemed  more  probable  that  her 
intention  was  to  prey  upon  shipping  off  the  Straits 
of  Magellan.  In  order  to  meet  the  danger,  he 
set  off  with  the  Good  Hope,  Monmouth,  Glasgow, 
and  the  armed  liner  Otranto  to  operate  in  the  far 
south,  employing  the  Falkland  Islands  as  his  base. 
The  Glasgow's  Lair  of  the  north  now  remained  for 
the  use  of  Stoddart's  squadron. 

In  the  light  of  after-events  one  cannot  but  feel 
regret  that  the  old  battleship  Canopus  was  attached 
to  the  Southern  Squadron — Cradock's — instead  of 
the  armoured  cruiser  Defence,  a  much  more  useful 
if  less  powerfully  armed  vessel.  The  Defence  was 
comparatively  new,  completed  in  1908,  had  a 
speed  of  some  twenty-one  to  twenty-two  knots,  and 
was  more  powerful  than  either  the  Scharnhorst 
or  the  Gneisenau.  The  three  sisters,  Defence, 
Minotaur,  and  Shannon,  had  indeed  been  laid 
down  as  replies  to  the  building  of  the  Scharnhorst 
and  Gneisenau,  and  carried  four  9.2-inch  guns  and 
ten  7.5-inch  as  against  the  eight  8.2-inch  and  six 
6-inch  guns  of  the  German  cruisers. 

I  have  reached  a  point  in  my  narrative  when  it 
becomes  necessary  to  take  up  the  story  from  the 
German  side,  and  to  indicate  how  it  came  about 
that  five  cruisers,  which  at  the  beginning  of  the 
war  were  widely  scattered,  became  concentrated 
into  the  fine  hard-fighting  squadron  which  met 
Cradock  at  Coronel.  The  permanent  base  of  the 
Scharnhorst  and  Gneisenau  was  Tsing-tau  in  China, 
but  it  happened  that  at  the  end  of  July,  1914,  they 
were  more  than  2,000  miles  away  in  the  Caroline 
Islands.  The  light  cruisers  Nurriberg  and  Leipzig 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW          229 

were  upon  the  western  coast  of  Mexico,  and,  as 
I  have  already  told,  the  Dresden  was  off  the  eastern 
coast  of  Mexico.  The  Emden,  which  does  not 
concern  us,  was  at  Tsing-tau.  The  Scharnhorst 
and  Gneisenau  were  kept  out  of  China  waters  by 
the  Japanese  fleets  and  hunted  for  and  chased 
to  Fiji  by  the  Australian  Unit.  On  September 
22nd  von  Spee  bombarded  Tahiti,  in  the  Society 
Islands,  at  the  moment  when  the  Dresden,  having 
safely  passed  through  the  Atlantic,  was  creeping 
up  the  Chilian  coast  and  the  Nurriberg  and  Leipzig 
were  coming  down  from  the  north.  All  the  German 
vessels  had  been  ordered  to  concentrate  at  Easter 
Island,  a  small  remote  convict  settlement  belonging 
to  Chili  and  lost  in  the  Pacific  far  out  (2,800  miles) 
to  the  west  of  Valparaiso. 

While,  therefore,  Cradock  and  his  Southern 
Squadron  were  steering  for  the  Falkland  Islands 
to  make  of  it  a  base  for  their  search  for  the  Dresden, 
von  Spec's  cruisers  were  slowly  concentrating  upon 
Easter  Island.  There  was  no  coal  at  the  Falk- 
lands — they  produce  nothing  except  sheep  and 
the  most  abominable  weather  on  earth — but  it 
was  easy  for  us  to  direct  colliers  thither,  and  to 
transform  the  Islands  into  a  base  of  supplies. 
The  Germans  had  a  far  more  difficult  task.  All 
through  the  operations  which  I  am  describing, 
and  have  still  to  describe,  we  were  possessed  of 
three  great  advantages.  We  had  the  coal,  we  had 
the  freedom  of  communications  given  by  ocean 
cables  and  wireless,  and  we  had  the  sympathy  of 
all  those  South  American  neutrals  with  whom  we 
had  to  deal.  Admiral  von  Spee  and  his  ships 
were  all  through  in  great  difficulties  for  coal,  and 
would  have  failed  entirely  unless  the  German  ships 


230  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

at  South  American  ports  had  run  big  risks  to  seek 
out  and  supply  him.  He  was  to  a  large  extent 
cut  off  from  the  outside  world,  for  he  had  no  cables, 
and  received  little  information  or  assistance  from 
home.  The  slowness  of  his  movements,  both  before 
and  after  Coronel,  may  chiefly  be  explained  through 
his  lack  of  supplies  and  his  ignorance  of  where  we 
were  or  of  what  we  were  about  to  do. 

It  is  comparatively  easy  for  me  now  to  plot  out 
the  movements  of  the  English  and  German  vessels, 
and  to  set  forth  their  relative  positions  at  any  date. 
But  when  the  movements  were  actually  in  progress 
the  admirals  and  captains  on  both  sides  were  very 
much  in  the  dark.  Now  and  then  would  come  a 
ray  of  light  which  enabled  their  imagination  and 
judgment  to  work.  Thus  the  report  from  the 
Ortega  that  she  had  encountered  the  Dresden  with 
her  two  colliers  at  the  Pacific  entrance  of  the 
Magellan  Straits  showed  that  she  might  be  bound 
for  some  German  rendezvous  hi  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
A  day  or  two  later  came  word  that  the  Scharnhorst 
and  Gneisenau  had  bombarded  Tahiti,  and  that 
these  two  powerful  cruisers,  which  had  seemed 
to  be  so  remote  from  the  concern  of  the  South 
Atlantic  Squadron,  were  already  half-way  across 
the  wide  Pacific,  apparently  bound  for  Chili.  It 
was  also,  of  course,  known  that  the  Leipzig  and 
Nurnberg  were  on  the  west  coast  of  Mexico  to 
the  north.  Any  one  who  will  take  a  chart  of  the 
Pacific  and  note  the  positions  towards  the  end  of 
September  of  von  Spec,  the  Dresden,  and  the  Nurn- 
berg and  Leipzig,  will  see  that  the  lonely  dot  marked 
as  Easter  Island  was  pretty  nearly  the  only  spot 
in  the  vast  stretch  of  water  towards  which  these 
scattered  units  could  possibly  be  converging.  At 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW          231 


232  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

least  so  it  seemed  at  the  time,  and,  in  fact,  proved 
to  be  the  case.  The  Scharnhorst  and  Gneisenau 
reached  Easter  Island  early  in  October,  the  Nurn- 
berg  turned  up  on  the  12th,  and  later  upon  the 
same  day  the  Dresden  arrived  with  her  faithful 
collier  the  Baden.  Upon  the  14th  down  came  the 
Leipzig  accompanied  by  colliers  carrying  3,000 
tons  of  coal.  The  German  concentration  was 
complete;  it  had  been  carried  through  with  very 
considerable  skill  aided  by  no  less  considerable 
luck.  The  few  inhabitants  of  the  lonely  Easter 
Island,  remote  from  trade  routes,  cables,  and 
newspapers,  regarded  the  German  squadron  with 
complete  indifference.  They  had  heard  nothing 
of  the  world  war,  and  were  not  interested  in  foreign 
warships.  The  island  is  rich  in  archaeological 
remains.  There  happened  to  be  upon  it  a  British 
scientific  expedition,  but,  busied  over  the  relics 
of  the  past,  the  single-minded  men  of  science  did 
not  take  the  trouble  to  cross  the  island  to  look  at 
the  German  ships.  They  also  were  happy  in  their 
lack  of  knowledge  that  a  war  was  on. 

I  have  anticipated  events  a  little  in  order  to 
make  clear  what  was  happening  on  the  other  side 
of  the  great  spur  of  South  America  while  Admiral 
Stoddart's  squadron  was  taking  charge  of  the 
Brazilian,  Uruguayan,  and  upper  Argentine  coasts, 
and  Admiral  Cradock,  with  the  Good  Hope,  Glasgow, 
Monmouth,  and  Otranto — followed  by  the  battle- 
ship Canopus — were  pressing  to  the  south  after 
the  Dresden.  Stoddart's  little  lot  had  been  swept 
up  from  regions  remote  from  their  present  con- 
centration. The  Carnarvon  had  come  from  St. 
Vincent,  the  Defence  from  the  Mediterranean, 
where  she  had  been  Troubridge's  flagship  in  the 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW         233 

early  days  of  the  war;  the  Kent  had  been  sent 
out  from  England,  and  the  Cornwall  summoned 
from  the  West  Coast  of  Africa.  The  Bristol,  as 
we  know,  was  from  the  West  Indies  and  her  fruit- 
less hunt  for  the  elusive  Karlsruhe.  The  South 
Atlantic  was  now  in  possession  of  two  considerable 
British  squadrons,  although  two  months  earlier 
there  had  been  nothing  of  ours  carrying  guns  except 
the  little  Glasgow. 

After  the  news  arrived  from  the  Ortega  about  the 
Dresden's  movements,  Cradock  took  his  ships 
down  to  Punta  Arenas,  and  thence  across  to  Port 
Stanley,  in  the  Falkland  Islands,  where  he  was 
joined  by  the  Canopus,  a  slow  old  ship  of  some 
thirteen  to  fourteen  knots,  which  had  straggled 
down  to  him.  I  have  never  been  able  to  reconcile 
the  choice  of  the  old  Canopus,  despite  her  for- 
midable 12-inch  guns,  with  my  sense  of  what 
was  fitting  for  the  pursuit  and  destruction  of 
German  cruisers  with  a  squadron  speed  of  some 
twenty-one  knots.  From  Port  Stanley  the  Glasgow 
and  Monmouth  were  despatched  round  the  Horn 
upon  a  scouting  expedition  which  was  to  extend 
as  far  as  Valparaiso.  Already  the  Southern 
Squadron  was  beginning  to  suffer  from  its  remote- 
ness from  the  original  Pirates'  Lair  of  the  Glasgow. 
The  Northern  Squadron,  collected  from  the  corners 
of  the  earth,  were  receiving  the  supply  ships  first 
and  skimming  the  cream  off  their  cargoes  before 
letting  them  loose  for  the  service  of  their  brethren 
in  arms  to  the  south.  It  was  all  very  natural  and 
inevitable,  but  rather  irritating  for  those  who  had 
now  to  make  the  best  of  the  knuckle  end  of  the 
Admiralty's  joints. 

The  trip  round  the  Horn  of  the  Glasgow  and 


234  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

Monmouth  was  very  rough  indeed;  the  English 
cruisers  rolled  continually  gunwhale  under,  and 
had  they  chanced  to  encounter  the  Dresden — which 
was  not  then  possible,  for  she  was  well  up  the 
Chilian  coast — neither  side  could  have  fired  a  shot 
at  the  other.  At  Orange  Bay,  where  they  put  in, 
they  discovered  evidence  of  the  recent  presence 
of  the  Dresden  in  rather  a  curious  way.  It  had 
long  been  the  custom  of  vessels  visiting  that  remote 
desolate  spot  to  erect  boards  giving  their  names 
and  the  date  of  their  call.  Upon  the  notice  board 
of  the  German  cruiser  Bremen,  left  many  months 
before,  was  read  in  pencil,  partially  obliterated  by 
a  cautious  afterthought,  the  words  "Dresden, 
September  llth,  1914." 

During  the  early  part  of  October,  the  two 
cruisers  Glasgow  and  Monmouth  worked  up  the 
Chilian  coast  and  reached  Valparaiso  about  October 
17th.  It  was  an  expedition  rather  trying  to  the 
nerves  of  those  who  were  responsible  for  the  safety 
of  the  ships.  Perhaps  the  word  "squirmy"  will 
best  describe  their  feelings.  Already  the  German 
concentration  had  taken  place  at  Easter  Island  to 
the  west  of  them;  they  did  not  positively  know 
of  it,  but  suspected,  and  felt  apprehensive  lest 
their  presence  in  Chilian  waters  might  be  reported 
to  von  Spee  and  themselves  cut  off  and  overwhelmed 
before  they  could  get  away.  Coal  and  provisions 
were  running  short,  the  crew  were  upon  half 
rations,  and  any  imprudence  might  be  very  severely 
punished. 

During  October  the  Glasgow  and  Monmouth 
were  detached  from  the  Good  Hope,  and  it  was 
not  until  the  28th  that  Cradock  joined  up  with 
them  at  a  point  several  hundred  miles  south  of 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW          235 

Coronel,  whither  they  had  descended  for  coal  and 
stores  after  their  hazardous  northern  enterprise. 
Here  -also  was  the  Otranto,  but  the  Canopus, 
though  steaming  her  best,  had  been  left  behind 
by  the  Good  Hope,  and  was,  for  all  practical  pur- 
poses, of  no  account  at  all.  She  was  200  miles 
away  when  Coronel  was  fought.  On  October  28th, 
after  receiving  orders  from  Cradock,  the  Glasgow 
left  by  herself  bound  north  for  Coronel,  a  small 
Chilian  coaling  port,  there  to  pick  up  mails  and 
telegrams  from  England.  The  Glasgow  arrived  off 
Coronel  on  the  29th,  but  remained  outside  patrol- 
ling for  forty-eight  hours.  The  German  wireless 
about  her  was  very  strong  indeed,  enemy  ships  were 
evidently  close  at  hand,  and  at  any  moment  might 
appear.  They  were  indeed  much  nearer  and  more 
menacing  than  the  Glasgow  knew,  even  at  this 
eleventh  hour  before  the  meeting  took  place. 
On  October  26th  Admiral  von  Spec  was  at  Masa- 
fuera,  a  small  island  off  the  Chilian  coast,  on  the 
27th  he  left  for  Valparaiso  itself,  and  there  on  the 
31st  he  learned  of  the  arrival  in  the  port  of  Coronel 
of  the  English  cruiser  Glasgow.  The  clash  of 
fighting  ships  was  very  near. 

On  October  31st  the  Glasgow  entered  the  harbour 
of  Coronel,  a  large  harbour  to  which  there  are  two 
entrances,  and  a  rendezvous  off  the  port  had  been 
arranged  with  the  rest  of  the  squadron  for  No- 
vember 1st.  Her  arrival  was  at  once  notified  to 
von  Spee  at  Valparaiso.  The  mails  and  telegrams 
were  collected,  and  at  9.15  on  the  1st  the  Glasgow 
backed  out  cautiously,  ready,  if  the  Germans  were 
in  force  outside,  to  slip  back  again  into  neutral 
waters  and  to  take  the  fullest  advantage  of  her 
twenty-four  hours'  law.  She  emerged  seeing  noth- 


236  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

ing,  though  the  enemy  wireless  was  coming  loudly, 
and  met  the  Good  Hope,  Monmouth,  and  Otranto 
at  the  appointed  rendezvous  some  eighty  miles 
out  to  sea.  Here  the  mails  and  telegrams  were 
transferred  to  Cradock  by  putting  them  in  a 
cask  and  towing  it  across  the  Good  Hope's  bows. 
The  sea  was  rough,  and  this  resourceful  method 
was  much  quicker  and  less  dangerous  than  the 
orthodox  use  of  a  boat.  Cradock  spread  out  his 
four  ships,  fifteen  miles  apart,  and  steamed  to 
the  north-west  at  ten  knots.  Smoke  became 
visible  to  the  Glasgow  at  4.20  p.m.,  and  as  she 
increased  speed  to  investigate,  there  appeared  two 
four-funnelled  armoured  cruisers  and  one  light 
cruiser  with  three  funnels.  Those  four-funnelled 
ships  were  the  Scharnhorst  and  Gneisenau,  and 
until  they  were  seen  at  that  moment  by  the  Glasgow 
they  were  not  positively  known  to  have  been  on 
the  Chilian  coast.  To  this  extent  the  German 
Admiral  had  taken  his  English  opponents  by 
surprise.  "When  we  saw  those  damned  four 
funnels,"  said  the  officers  of  the  Glasgow,  "we  knew 
that  there  was  the  devil  to  pay." 

I  have  already  told  the  story  of  the  Coronel 
action  and  I  will  not  tell  it  again.  Von  Spee  held 
off  so  long  as  the  sun  behind  the  English  gave 
them  the  advantage  of  light,  and  did  not  close  in 
until  the  sun  had  set  and  the  yellow  afterglow 
made  his  opponents  stand  out  like  silhouettes. 
He  could  see  them  while  they  could  not  see  him. 
During  the  action,  the  light  cruiser  Glasgow,  with 
which  I  am  mainly  concerned,  had  a  very  unhappy 
time.  The  armed  liner  Otranto  cleared  off,  quite 
properly,  and  the  Glasgow,  third  in  the  line,  was 
exposed  for  more  than  an  hour  to  the  concentrated 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW          237 

fire  of  the  4.1-inch  guns  of  both  the  Leipzig  and 
Dresden,  and  afterwards,  when  the  Good  Hope  had 
blown  up  and  the  Monmouth  been  disabled,  for 
about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  the  8.2-inch  guns  of 
the  Gneisenau.  Her  gunnery  officers  could  not 
see  the  splashes  of  their  own  shells,  and  could  not 
correct  the  ranges.  When  darkness  came  down 
it  was  useless  to  continue  firing  blindly,  and  worse 
than  useless,  since  her  gun  flashes  gave  some 
guidance  to  the  enemy's  gunners.  At  the  range 
of  about  11,000  yards,  a  long  range  for  the  German 
4.1-inch  guns,  the  shells  were  falling  all  around 
very  steeply,  the  surface  of  the  sea  was  churned 
into  foam,  and  splinters  from  bursting  shells  rained 
over  her.  It  is  a  wonderful  thing  that  she  suffered 
so  little  damage  and  that  not  a  single  man  of  her 
company  was  killed  or  severely  wounded.  Four 
slight  wounds  from  splinters  constituted  her  total 
tally  of  casualties.  At  least  600  shells,  great  and 
small,  were  fired  at  her,  yet  she  was  hit  five  times 
only.  The  most  serious  damage  done  was  a  big 
hole  between  wind  and  water  on  the  port  quarter 
near  one  of  the  screws.  Yet  even  this  hole  did 
not  prevent  her  from  steaming  away  at  twenty- 
four  knots,  and  from  covering  several  thousand 
miles  before  she  was  properly  repaired.  I  think 
that  the  Glasgow  must  be  a  lucky  ship.  After  the 
Good  Hope  had  blown  up  and  the  Monmouth, 
badly  hurt,  was  down  by  the  bows  and  turning 
her  stern  to  the  seas,  the  Glasgow  hung  upon  her 
consort's  port  quarter,  anxious  to  give  help  and 
deeply  reluctant  to  leave.  Yet  she  could  do 
nothing.  The  Monmouth  was  clearly  doomed,  and 
it  was  urgent  that  the  Glasgow  should  get  away  to 
warn  the  Canopus,  then  150  miles  away  and  pressing 


238  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

towards  the  scene  of  action,  and  to  report  the 
tragedy  and  the  German  concentration  to  the 
Admiralty  at  home.  During  that  anxious  waiting 
time,  when  the  enemy's  shells  were  still  falling 
thickly  about  her,  the  sea,  to  the  Glasgow's  com- 
pany, looked  very,  very  cold!  At  last,  when  the 
moon  was  coming  up  brightly,  and  further  delay 
might  have  made  escape  impossible,  the  Glasgow 
sorrowfully  turned  to  the  west,  towards  the  wide 
Pacific  spaces,  and  dashed  off  at  full  speed.  It 
was  not  until  half  an  hour  later,  when  she  was 
twelve  miles  distant,  that  she  counted  the  seventy- 
five  flashes  of  the  Nurnberg's  guns  which  finally 
destroyed  the  Monmouth.  I  am  afraid  that  the 
story  of  the  cheers  from  the  Monmouth  which  sped 
the  Glasgow  upon  her  way  must  be  dismissed  as 
a  pretty  legend.  No  one  in  the  Glasgow  heard 
them,  and  no  one  from  the  Monmouth  survived  to 
tell  the  tale.  Captain  Grant  and  his  men  of  the 
Canopus  must  have  suffered  agonies  when  they 
received  the  Glasgow's  brief  message.  They  had 
done  their  utmost  to  keep  up  with  the  Good  Hope, 
and  the  slowness  of  their  ship  had  been  no  fault 
of  theirs.  Grant  had,  I  have  been  told,  implored 
the  Admiral  to  wait  for  him  before  risking  an 
engagement. 

The  journey  to  the  Straits  and  to  her  junction 
with  the  Canopus  was  a  very  anxious  one  for  the 
Glasgow's  company.  They  did  their  best  to  be 
cheerful,  though  cheerfulness  was  not  easy  to  come 
by.  They  had  witnessed  the  total  defeat  of  an 
English  by  a  German  squadron,  and  before  they 
could  get  down  south  into  comparative  safety  the 
German  ships,  running  down  the  chord  of  the  arc 
which  represented  the  Glasgow's  course,  might 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW          239 

arrive  first  at  the  Straits.  That  there  was  no 
pursuit  to  the  south  may  be  explained  by  the  one 
word — coal.  Von  Spee  could  get  coal  at  Valparaiso 
or  at  Coronel — though  the  local  coal  was  soft, 
wretched  stuff — but  he  had  no  means  of  replenish- 
ment farther  south.  One  does  not  realize  how 
completely  a  squadron  of  warships  is  tied  to  its 
colliers  or  to  its  coaling  bases  until  one  tries  to 
discover  and  explain  the  movements  of  warships 
cruising  in  the  outer  seas. 

While  running  down  towards  the  Straits — for 
twenty-four  hours  she  kept  up  twenty-four  knots 
— the  Glasgow  briefly  notified  the  Canopus  of 
the  disaster  of  Coronel  and  of  her  own  intention 
to  make  for  the  Falkland  Islands.  Beyond  this, 
she  refrained  from  using  the  tell-tale  wireless 
which  might  give  away  her  position  to  a  pursuing 
enemy.  Upon  the  evening  of  the  3rd  she  picked 
up  the  German  press  story  of  the  action,  but 
kept  silence  upon  it  herself.  On  the  morning 
of  the  4th,  very  short  of  stores — her  crew  had 
been  on  reduced  rations  for  a  month — she  reached 
the  Straits  and,  to  her  great  relief,  found  them 
empty  of  the  enemy.  She  did  not  meet  the  Cano- 
pus until  the  6th,  and  then,  with  the  big  battleship 
upon  her  weather  quarter,  to  keep  the  seas  some- 
what off  that  sore  hole  in  her  side,  she  made  a 
fortunately  easy  passage  to  the  Falkland  Islands 
and  entered  Port  Stanley  at  daylight  upon  No- 
vember 8th.  Thence  the  Glasgow  despatched  her 
first  telegram  to  the  authorities  at  home,  and 
at  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  set  off  with  the 
Canopus  for  the  north.  But  that  same  evening 
came  orders  from  England  for  the  Canopus  to 
return,  in  order  that  the  coaling  base  of  the  Falk- 


240  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

lands  might  be  defended,  so  the  Glasgow,  alone 
once  more  after  many  days,  pursued  her  solitary 
way  towards  Rio  and  to  her  meeting  with  the 
Carnarvon,  Defence,  and  Cornwall,  which  were 
at  that  time  lying  off  the  River  Plate  guarding 
the  approaches  to  Montevideo  and  Buenos  Ayres. 
The  Glasgow  had  done  her  utmost  to  uphold  the 
Flag,  but  the  lot  of  the  sole  survivor  of  a  naval 
disaster  is  always  wretched.  The  one  thing  which 
counts  in  the  eyes  of  English  naval  officers  is  the 
good  opinion  of  their  brethren  of  the  sea;  those 
of  the  Glasgow  could  not  tell  until  they  had  tested 
it  what  would  be  the  opinion  of  their  colleagues  in 
the  Service.  It  was  very  kind,  very  sympathetic; 
so  overflowing  with  kindness  and  sympathy  were 
those  who  now  learned  the  details  of  the  disaster, 
that  the  company  of  the  Glasgow,  sorely  humiliated, 
yet  full  of  courage  and  hope  for  the  day  of  reckon- 
ing, never  afterwards  forgot  how  much  they  owed 
to  it.  At  home  men  growled  foolishly,  ignorantly, 
sank  to  the  baseness  of  writing  abusive  letters  to 
the  newspapers,  and  even  to  the  Glasgow  herself, 
but  the  Service  understood  and  sympathised,  and 
it  is  the  Service  alone  which  counts. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE   CRUISE   OF  THE    "GLASGOW7* 

PART  II. — CORONEL  TO  JUAN  FERNANDEZ 
(Nov.  1st,  1914,  to  March  14th,  1915) 

WE  left  the  British  cruiser  Glasgow  off  the  River 
Plate,  where  she  had  arrived  after  her  escape, 
sore  at  heart  and  battered  in  body,  from  the 
disaster  of  Coronel.  The  battleship  Canopus  re- 
mained behind  at  Port  Stanley  to  defend  the  newly 
established  coaling-station  at  the  Falkland  Islands. 
Her  four  12-inch  guns  would  have  made  the  inner 
harbour  impassable  to  the  lightly  armoured  cruisers 
of  Admiral  von  Spee  had  he  descended  before  the 
reinforcements  from  the  north  arrived;  and  the 
colliers,  cleverly  hidden  in  the  remote  creeks  of 
the  Islands,  would  have  been  most  difficult  for 
him  to  discover.  It  was  essential  to  our  plans 
that  there  should  be  ample  stores  of  coal  at  the 
Falklands  for  the  use  of  Sturdee's  punitive  squadron 
when  it  should  arrive,  and  every  possible  precau- 
tion was  taken  to  ensure  the  supply.  As  it  hap- 
pened, von  Spee  did  not  come  for  five  weeks.  He 
was  at  his  wits'  end  to  find  coal,  and  was,  moreover, 
short  of  ammunition  after  the  bombardment  of 
Tahiti  and  the  big  expenditure  in  the  Coronel  fight. 
So  he  remained  pottering  about  off  the  Chilian 

241 


242  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

coast  until  he  had  swept  up  enough  of  coal  and 
of  colliers  to  make  his  journey  to  the  Falklands, 
and  to  provide  for  his  return  to  the  Lair  which 
he  had  established  in  an  inlet  upon  the  coast. 

At  the  English  Bank,  off  the  River  Plate,  the 
Glasgow  had  joined  up  with  the  Carnarvon,  Defence, 
and  Cornwall,  and  her  company  were  greatly 
refreshed  in  spirit  by  the  kindly  understanding 
and  sympathy  of  their  brothers  of  the  sea.  The 
officers  and  men  of  the  Glasgow,  who  had  by  now 
worked  together  for  more  than  two  years,  had 
come  through  their  shattering  experiences  with 
extraordinarily  little  loss  of  moral.  They  had 
suffered  a  material  defeat,  but  their  courage  and 
confidence  in  the  ultimate  issue  burned  as  brightly 
as  ever.  Even  upon  the  night  of  the  disaster, 
when  they  were  seeking  a  safe  road  to  the  Straits, 
uncertain  whether  the  Germans  would  arrive  there 
first,  they  were  much  more  concerned  for  the 
safety  of  the  Canopus  than  worried  about  their 
own  skins.  Their  captain  and  navigating  lieu- 
tenant had  thrust  upon  them  difficulties  and 
anxieties  of  which  the  others  were  at  first  ignorant. 
The  ship's  compasses  were  found  to  be  gravely 
disturbed  by  the  shocks  of  the  action,  their  mag- 
netism had  been  upset,  and  not  until  star  sights 
could  be  taken  were  they  able  to  correct  the  error 
of  fully  twenty  degrees.  The  speed  at  which  the 
cruiser  travelled  buried  the  stern  deeply,  and 
the  water  entering  by  the  big  hole  blown  in  the 
port  quarter  threatened  to  flood  a  whole  compart- 
ment and  make  it  impossible  for  full  speed  to  be 
maintained.  The  voyage  to  the  Straits  was,  for 
those  responsible,  a  period  of  grave  anxiety.  Yet 
through  it  all  the  officers  and  men  did  their  work 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW        243 

and  maintained  a  cheerful  countenance,  as  if  to 
pass  almost  scatheless  through  a  tremendous  tor- 
rent of  shell,  and  to  get  away  with  waggling  com- 
passes and  a  great  hole  between  wind  and  water, 
was  an  experience  which  custom  had  made  of 
little  moment.  No  one  could  have  judged  from 
their  demeanour  that  never  before  November  1st 
had  the  Glasgow  been  in  action,  and  that  not  until 
November  6th,  when  she  had  beside  her  the  support 
of  the  Canopus's  great  guns,  did  she  reach  com- 
parative safety. 

The  Glasgow's  damaged  side  had  been  shored  up 
internally  with  baulks  of  timber,  but  if  she  were 
to  become  sea-  and  battle-worthy  it  was  necessary 
to  seek  for  some  more  permanent  means  of  repair. 
So  with  her  consorts  she  made  for  Rio,  arriving  on 
the  16th,  and  reported  her  damaged  condition  to 
the  Brazilian  authorities.  Under  the  Hague  Con- 
vention she  was  entitled  to  remain  at  Rio  for  a 
sufficient  time  to  be  made  seaworthy,  and  the 
Brazilian  Government  interpreted  the  Convention 
in  the  most  generous  sense.  The  Government 
floating  dock  was  placed  at  her  disposal,  and  here 
for  five  days  she  was  repaired,  until  with  her  torn 
side  plating  entirely  renewed  she  was  as  fit  as  ever 
for  the  perils  of  the  sea.  Her  engineers  took  the 
fullest  advantage  of  those  invaluable  days;  they 
overhauled  the  boilers  and  engines  so  thoroughly 
that  when  the  bold  cruiser  emerged  from  Rio  she 
was  fresh  and  clean,  ready  to  steam  at  her  own  full 
speed  of  some  twenty-six  knots,  and  to  fight  any- 
thing with  which  she  could  reasonably  be  classed 
in  weight  of  metal.  By  this  time  the  Glasgow 
had  learned  of  the  great  secret  concentration 
about  to  take  place  at  her  old  Pirates'  Lair  to  the 


244  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

north,  and  of  those  other  concentrations  which 
were  designed  to  ensure  the  destruction  of  von 
Spec  to  whatsoever  part  of  the  wide  oceans  he 
might  direct  his  ships. 

The  disaster  of  Coronel  had  set  the  Admiralty 
bustling  to  very  good  and  thorough  purpose.  No 
fewer  than  five  squadrons  were  directed  to  con- 
centrate for  the  one  purpose  of  ridding  the  seas 
of  the  German  cruisers.  First  came  down  Sturdee 
with  the  battle  cruisers  Invincible  and  Inflexible 
to  join  the  Carnarvon,  Glasgow,  Kent,  Cornwall, 
and  Bristol  at  the  Pirates'  Lair.  Upon  their  arrival 
the  armoured  cruiser  Defence  was  ordered  to  the 
Cape  to  complete  there  a  watching  squadron  ready 
for  von  Spec  should  he  seek  safety  in  that  direction. 
One  Japanese  squadron  remained  to  guard  the 
China  seas,  and  another  of  great  power  sped  across 
the  Pacific  towards  the  Chilian  coast.  In  Aus- 
tralian waters  were  the  battle  cruiser  Australia  and 
her  consorts  of  the  Unit,  together  with  the  French 
cruiser  Montcalm.  Von  Spec's  end  was  certain; 
what  was  not  quite  so  certain  was  whether  he 
would  fall  to  the  Japanese  or  to  Sturdee.  Our 
Japanese  Allies  fully  understood  that  we  were 
gratified  at  his  falling  to  us;  he  had  sunk  our 
ships  and  was  our  just  prey.  Yet  if  he  had  loitered 
much  longer  off  Chili,  and  had  not  at  last  ventured 
upon  his  fatal  Falklands  dash,  the  gallant  Japanese 
would  have  had  him.  Luck  favoured  us  now,  as 
it  had  favoured  us  a  month  earlier  when  the  Emden 
was  destroyed  at  the  Cocos-Keeling  Islands.  Those 
who  have  read  my  story  of  the  Emden  in  Chapter  IX 
will  remember  that  but  for  the  fortune  of  position 
which  placed  the  Sydney  nearest  to  the  Islands 
when  their  wireless  call  for  help  went  out,  the 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW         245 

famous  raider  would  in  all  probability  have  fallen 
to  a  Japanese  light  cruiser  which  was  with  the 
Australian  convoy. 

The  mission  of  the  Invincible  and  Inflexible,  and 
the  secrecy  with  which  it  was  enshrouded,  is  one 
of  the  most  romantic  episodes  of  the  war.  I 
have  already  dealt  fully  with  it.  But  there  has 
since  come  to  me  one  little  detail  which  reveals 
how  very  near  we  were,  at  one  time,  to  a  German 
discovery  of  the  whole  game.  The  two  battle 
cruisers  coaled  at  St.  Vincent,  Cape  Verde  Islands 
— Portuguese  territory,  within  which  we  had  no 
powers  of  censorship — and  at  the  Pirates'  Lair 
off  the  Brazilian  coast.  Their  movements  began 
to  be  talked  about  in  Rio  and  the  River  Plate. 
Men  knew  of  the  Coronel  disaster  and  shrewdly 
suspected  that  the  two  great  ships  were  on  their 
way  to  the  South  Atlantic.  A  description  of  their 
visit  had  been  prepared,  and  was  actually  in  type. 
It  was  intended  for  publication  in  a  local  South 
American  paper.  That  it  was  not  published, 
when  urgent  representations  were  made  on  our 
behalf,  reveals  how  scrupulous  was  the  considera- 
tion with  which  our  friends  of  Brazil  and  the 
Argentine  regarded  our  interests.  There  were 
no  powers  of  censorship,  the  appeal  was  as  man  to 
man,  and  Englishman  to  Portuguese,  and  the 
appeal  prevailed — even  over  the  natural  thirst  of 
a  journalist  for  highly  interesting  news.  The 
battle  cruisers  coaled  and  passed  upon  their  way, 
and  no  word  of  their  visit  went  forth  to  Berlin  or 
to  von  Spee. 

The  Glasgow  was  among  the  British  cruisers  which 
greeted  Sturdee  at  the  Pirates'  Lair,  and  as  soon 
as  ammunition  and  stores  had  been  distributed 


246  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

and  coal  taken  in,  the  voyage  to  the  Falkland 
Islands  began.  The  squadron  arrived  in  the 
evening  of  December  7th,  and  at  daybreak  of  the 
8th  von  Spee  ran  upon  his  fate.  The  part  played 
by  the  Glasgow  in  the  action  was  less  spectacular 
than  that  which  fell  to  the  battle  cruisers,  but  it 
was  useful  and  has  some  features  of  interest. 
Among  other  things  it  illustrates  how  little  is 
known  of  the  course  of  a  naval  action — spread  over 
hundreds  of  miles  of  sea — while  it  takes  place,  and 
for  some  time  even  after  it  is  over. 

On  the  morning  of  December  8th,  at  eight  o'clock, 
the  approach  of  the  German  squadron  was  observed, 
and  at  this  moment  the  English  squadron  was 
hard  at  work  coaling.  By  9.45  steam  was  up  and 
the  pursuit  began.  The  Glasgow  was  lying  in  the 
inner  harbour  with  banked  fires,  ready  for  sea  at 
two  hours'  notice,  but  her  Engineer  Lieutenant- 
Commander  Shrubsole  and  his  staff  so  busied 
themselves  that  in  little  over  an  hour  from  the 
signal  to  raise  steam  she  was  under  weigh,  and 
an  hour  later  she  was  moving  in  chase  of  the 
enemy  at  a  higher  speed  than  she  obtained  hi  her 
contractors'  trials  when  she  was  a  brand-new  ship 
three  years  earlier.  Throughout  the  war  the 
engineering  staff  of  the  Royal  Navy  has  never 
failed  to  go  one  better  than  anyone  had  the  right 
to  expect  of  it.  It  has  never  failed  to  respond  to 
any  call  upon  its  energies  or  its  skill,  never. 

In  order  that  we  may  understand  how  the 
Dresden  was  able  to  make  her  escape  unscathed 
from  her  pursuers — she  bolted  without  firing  a 
shot  in  the  action — I  must  give  some  few  details 
of  the  position  of  the  ships  when  the  German 
light  cruisers  were  ordered  by  von  Spee  to  take 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW         247 

themselves  off  as  best  they  might.  Shortly  before 
One  o'clock  the  Glasgow,  a  much  faster  ship  than 
anything  upon  our  side  except  the  two  battle 
cruisers,  was  two  miles  ahead  of  the  flagship  In- 
vincible, and  it  was  Sturdee's  intention  to  attack 
the  Scharnhorst  and  Gneisenau — hull  down  on  the 
horizon — with  his  speediest  ships,  the  Invincible, 
Inflexible,  and  Glasgow.  Our  three  other  cruisers 
— Carnarvon,  Cornwall,  and  Kent — were  well  astern 
of  the  leaders.  At  1.04  the  Scharnhorst  and  Gneise- 
nau turned  to  the  eastward  to  accept  battle  and 
to  cover  the  retreat  of  their  light  cruisers,  which 
were  then  making  off  towards  the  southeast. 
Admiral  Sturdee,  seeing  at  once  that  the  light 
cruisers  might  make  good  their  escape  unless 
the  speedy  Glasgow  were  detached  in  pursuit, 
called  up  the  Carnarvon  (Rear-Admiral  Stoddart) 
to  his  support,  and  ordered  Captain  Luce  in  the 
Glasgow  to  take  charge  of  the  job  of  rounding  up 
and  destroying  the  Leipzig,  Niirnberg,  and  Dresden. 
The  Glasgow,  therefore,  began  the  chase  at  a  grave 
disadvantage.  She  first  had  to  work  round  the 
stern  of  the  Invincible,  pass  the  flagship  upon  her 
disengaged  side,  and  then  steam  off  from  far  in 
the  rear  after  the  Cornwall  and  Kent,  which  had 
already  begun  the  pursuit.  The  Leipzig  and 
Nurnberg  were  a  long  way  off,  and  the  Dresden 
was  even  farther.  This  cruiser,  Dresden,  though 
sister  to  the  Emden,  was,  unlike  her  sister  and  the 
others  of  von  Spec's  light  cruisers,  fitted  with 
Parsons'  turbine  engines.  She  was  much  the 
fastest  of  the  German  ships  at  the  Falkland  Islands, 
and  beginning  her  flight  with  a  start  of  some  ten 
miles  quickly  was  lost  to  sight  beyond  the  horizon. 
The  Cornwall  and  Kent  had  no  chance  at  all  of 


248  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

overtaking  her,  and  the  Glasgow,  whose  captain 
was  the  senior  naval  officer  in  command  of  the 
pursuing  squadron  of  the  three  English  cruisers, 
could  not  overtake  a  long  stern  chase  by  herself  so 
long  as  the  Leipzig  and  Nurnberg  were  in  his  course 
and  had  not  been  disposed  of.  He  was  obliged 
first  to  make  sure  of  them.  Steaming  at  twenty- 
four  and  a  half  knots,  the  Glasgow  drew  away  from 
the  battle  cruisers  and  began  to  overhaul  the 
Leipzig  and  Nurnberg.  She  decided  to  attack  the 
Leipzig,  which  was  nearest  to  her,  and  to  regulate 
her  speed  so  that  the  Cornwall  and  Kent — both 
more  powerful  but  much  slower  ships  than  herself 
— would  not  be  left  behind.  As  it  happened  the 
engineering  staffs  of  these  not  very  rapid  "County" 
cruisers  rose  nobly  to  the  emergency,  the  Cornwall 
was  able  to  catch  the  Leipzig  and  to  take  a  large 
part  in  her  destruction,  while  the  Kent  kept  on 
after  the  Nurnberg  and,  as  it  proved,  was  successful 
in  destroying  her  also.  One  of  the  ten  boilers  of 
the  Nurnberg  had  been  out  of  action  for  weeks  past 
and  her  speed  was  a  good  deal  below  its  best. 

The  sea  is  a  very  big  place,  but  that  portion  of 
it  contained  within  the  ring  of  the  visible  horizon 
is  very  small.  To  those  in  the  Glasgow,  pressing 
on  in  chase  of  the  Leipzig,  the  scene  appeared 
strange  and  even  ominous.  They  could  see  the 
Scharnhorst  and  Gneisenau  far  away,  moving  ap- 
parently in  pursuit  of  themselves,  but  the  battle 
cruisers  hidden  below  the  curve  of  the  horizon 
they  could  not  see.  When  firing  from  the  Invin- 
cible and  Inflexible  ceased  for  a  while — as  it  did 
at  intervals — it  seemed  to  the  Glasgow's  company 
that  they  were  sandwiched  between  von  Spec's 
armoured  cruisers  and  his  light  cruisers,  and  that 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW         249 

the  battle  cruisers,  upon  which  the  result  of  the 
action  depended,  had  disappeared  into  space. 
The  telegraph  room  and  the  conning-tower  doubt- 
less knew  what  was  happening,  but  the  ship's 
company  as  a  whole  did  not.  To  this  brevity  of 
vision,  and  to  this  detachment  from  exact  informa- 
tion, one  must  set  down  the  extraordinarily  con- 
flicting stories  one  receives  from  the  observers  of 
a  naval  action.  They  see  what  is  within  the  horizon 
but  not  what  is  below  it,  and  that  which  is  below 
is  not  uncommonly  far  more  important  than  that 
which  is  above. 

Shortly  after  three  o'clock  the  Glasgow  opened 
upon  the  Leipzig  with  her  foremost  6-inch  gun 
at  a  range  of  about  12,000  yards  (about  seven 
miles),  seeking  to  outrange  the  lighter  4.1-inch 
guns  carried  by  the  German  cruiser.  The  distance 
closed  down  gradually  to  10,000  yards,  at  which 
range  the  German  guns  could  occasionally  get  in 
their  work.  They  could,  as  the  Emden  snowed  in 
her  fight  with  the  Sydney,  and  as  was  observed  at 
Coronel,  do  effective  shooting  even  at  11,000 
yards,  but  hits  were  difficult  to  bring  off,  owing 
to  the  steepness  of  the  fall  of  the  shells  and  the 
narrowness  of  the  mark  aimed  at.  For  more  than 
an  hour  the  Glasgow  engaged  the  Leipzig  by  her- 
self, knocking  out  her  secondary  control  position 
between  the  funnels,  and  allowing  the  Cornwall 
time  to  arrive  and  to  help  to  finish  the  business 
with  her  fourteen  6-inch  guns.  At  one  time  the 
range  fell  as  low  as  9,000  yards,  the  Leipzig's 
gunners  became  very  accurate,  and  the  Glasgow 
suffered  nearly  all  the  casualties  which  overtook 
her  in  the  action. 

About  4.20  the  Cornwall  was  able  to  open  fire, 


250  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

and  the  Glasgow  joined  her,  so  that  both  ships 
might  concentrate  upon  the  same  side  of  the 
Leipzig.  Just  as  Admiral  Sturdee  hi  his  fight  with 
the  Scharnhorst  and  the  Gneisenau  could  not 
afford  to  run  risks  of  damage  far  from  a  repairing 
base,  so  the  Glasgow  and  the  Cornwall  with  several 
hours  of  daylight  before  them  were  not  justified 
in  allowing  impatience  to  hazard  the  safety  of 
the  ships.  They  had  to  regard  the  possible  use 
of  torpedoes  and  to  look  out  for  dropped  mines. 
Neither  torpedoes  nor  mines  were,  hi  fact,  used 
by  the  Germans,  though  at  one  time  hi  the  course 
of  the  action  drums,  mistaken  for  mines,  were  seen 
in  the  water  and  carefully  avoided.  They  were 
cases  hi  which  cartridges  were  brought  from  the 
magazines,  and  which  were  thrown  overboard 
after  being  emptied.  As  the  afternoon  drew  on 
the  weather  turned  rather  misty,  and  the  attacking 
ships  were  obliged  to  close  hi  a  little  and  hurry 
up  the  business.  This  was  at  half-past  five. 

From  the  first  the  Leipzig  never  had  a  chance. 
She  was  out-steamed  and  utterly  out-gunned. 
Her  opponents  had  between  them  four  times  her 
broadside  weight  of  metal,  and  the  Cornwall  was 
an  armoured  ship.  She  never  had  a  chance,  yet 
she  went  on,  fired  some  1,500  rounds — all  that 
remained  hi  her  magazines  after  Coronel — and  did 
not  finally  cease  firing  until  after  seven  o'clock. 
For  more  than  four  hours  her  company  had  looked 
certain  death  hi  the  face  yet  gallantly  stood  to 
then*  work.  From  first  to  last  von  Spee's  con- 
centrated squadron  played  the  naval  game  accord- 
ing to  the  immemorial  rules,  and  died  like  gentle- 
men. Peace  be  to  their  ashes.  In  success  and 
in  failure  they  were  the  most  gallant  and  honour- 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW        251 

able  of  foes.  At  seven  o'clock  the  Leipzig  was 
smashed  to  pieces,  she  was  blazing  from  stem  to 
stern,  she  was  doomed,  yet  gave  no  sign  of  sur- 
render. 

At  this  moment,  when  the  work  of  the  Glasgow 
and  the  Cornwall  had  been  done — the  Cornwall, 
it  should  be  noted,  bore  the  heavier  burden  in 
this  action — she  was  hit  eighteen  times,  though 
little  hurt,  and  played  her  part  with  the  utmost 
loyalty  and  devotion — at  this  moment  flashed  the 
news  through  the  ether  that  the  Scharnhorst  and 
Gneisenau  had  been  sunk.  The  news  spread,  and 
loud  cheers  went  up  from  the  English  ships.  To 
the  doomed  company  in  the  Leipzig  those  cheers 
must  have  carried  some  hint  of  the  utter  disaster 
which  had  overtaken  their  squadron.  It  was  not 
until  nine  o'clock  (six  hours  after  the  Glasgow 
had  begun  to  fire  upon  her)  that  she  made  her  last 
plunge — if  a  modern  compartment  ship  does 
not  blow  up,  she  takes  a  powerful  lot  of  shell  to 
sink  her — and  the  English  ships  did  everything 
that  they  could  to  save  life.  The  Glasgow  drew 
close  up  under  her  stern  and  lowered  boats,  at  the 
same  time  signalling  that  she  was  trying  to  save 
life.  There  was  no  reply.  Perhaps  the  signals 
were  not  read;  perhaps  there  were  not  many  left 
alive  to  make  reply.  The  Leipzig,  still  blazing, 
rolled  right  over  to  port  and  disappeared.  Six 
officers,  including  the  Navigating  Lieutenant-Com- 
mander, and  eight  men  were  picked  up  by  the 
Glasgow's  boats.  Fourteen  officers  and  men  out  of 
nearly  300!  The  captives  were  treated  as  honoured 
guests  and  made  much  of.  Our  officers  and 
men  took  their  gallant  defeated  foes  to  their 
hearts  and  gave  them  of  their  best.  It  was  not 


252  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

until  two  days  later,  when  news  arrived  that 
the  Leipzig's  sister  and  consort  the  Niirnberg  had 
been  sunk  by  the  Kent,  that  these  brave  men 
broke  down.  Then  they  wept.  They  cared  little 
for  the  Dresden — a  stranger  from  the  North 
Atlantic — but  the  Niirnberg  was  their  own  consort, 
beside  whom  they  had  sailed  for  years,  and  beside 
whom  they  had  fought.  They  had  hoped  to  the 
last  that  she  might  make  good  her  escape  from 
the  wreck  of  von  Spec's  squadron.  When  that 
last  hope  failed  they  wept.  When  I  think  of  von 
Spec's  gallant  men,  so  human  in  their  strength 
and  in  their  weakness,  I  cannot  regard  them  as 
other  than  worthy  brothers  of  the  sea. 

In  the  Coronel  action  the  Glasgow,  exposed  to 
the  concentrated  fire  of  the  Leipzig  and  Dresden 
for  an  hour,  and  to  the  heavy  guns  of  the  Gneisenau 
for  some  ten  minutes,  did  not  lose  a  single  man. 
There  were  four  slight  wounds  from  splinters, 
that  was  all.  But  hi  her  long  fight  with  the  Leipzig 
alone,  assisted  by  the  powerful  batteries  of  the 
Cornwall,  the  Glasgow  suffered  two  men  killed, 
three  men  severely  wounded,  and  six  slightly 
hurt.  Such  are  the  strange  chances  of  war. 
After  Coronel,  though  they  had  seen  two  of  their 
own  ships  go  down  and  were  hi  flight  from  an 
overwhelming  enemy,  the  officers  and  men  were 
wonderfully  cheerful.  The  shrewder  the  buffets 
of  Fate  the  stiffer  became  their  tails.  But  after 
the  Falklands,  when  success  had  wiped  out  the 
humiliation  of  failure,  there  came  a  nervous 
reaction.  Defeat  could  not  depress  the  spirit  of 
these  men,  but  victory,  by  relieving  their  minds 
from  the  long  strain  of  the  past  months,  made 
them  captious  and  irritable.  Perhaps  their  spirits 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW 


253 


Jamaica 


Miles 


O        20      40      60      60      tOO 


Rocasl 


Dresden'?* 
temporary  lair 


Str.ofMagett 


THE  CBX7ISE  OF  THE   "  GLASGOW." 


254  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

were  overshadowed  by  the  prospect  of  the  weary 
hunt  for  the  fugitive  Dresden. 


By  wondrous  accident  perchance  one  may 
Grope  out  a  needle  in  a  load  of  hay. 

Four  German  cruisers  had  been  sunk,  but  one, 
the  Dresden,  had  escaped,  and  the  story  of  the 
next  three  months  is  the  story  of  a  search — 
always  wearisome,  sometimes  dangerous,  some- 
times even  absurd.  The  Straits  of  Magellan,  the 
islands  of  Tierra  del  Fuego  and  of  the  Horn,  and 
the  west  coast  of  the  South  American  spur  are  a 
maze  of  inlets,  many  uncharted,  nearly  all  unsur- 
veyed.  The  hunt  for  the  elusive  Dresden  among 
the  channels,  creeks,  and  islands  was  far  more 
difficult  than  the  proverbial  grope  for  a  needle 
in  a  load  of  hay.  A  needle  buried  in  hay  cannot 
change  its  position;  provided  that  it  really  be 
hidden  in  a  load,  patience  and  a  magnet  will  infal- 
libly bring  it  forth.  The  Dresden  could  move 
from  one  hiding  place  to  another,  no  search  for 
her  could  ever  exhaust  the  possible  hiding-places, 
and  it  was  not  positively  known  until  after  she 
had  been  run  down  and  destroyed  where  she  had 
been  in  hiding.  That  she  was  found  after  three 
weary  months  may  be  explained  by  that  one  word 
which  explains  so  much  in  naval  work — coal.  The 
Dresden  after  her  flight  from  the  Falkland  Islands 
action  was  short  of  coal;  von  Spec's  attendant 
colliers,  Baden  and  Santa  Isabel,  had  been  pursued 
and  sunk  by  the  Bristol  and  the  armed  liner 
Macedonia,  and  she  was  cast  upon  the  world  with- 
out means  of  replenishing  her  bunkers.  This  was, 
of  course,  known  to  her  pursuers,  so  that  thej 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW        255 

expected,  and  expected  rightly,  that  she  would 
hang  about  in  some  secluded  creek  until  her 
dwindling  supplies  drove  her  forth  upon  the  seas 
to  hunt  for  more.  Which  is  what  happened. 

Upon  the  evening  of  December  8th,  after  the 
Glasgow  and  Cornwall  had  disposed  of  the  Leipzig, 
there  were  one  English  and  two  German  cruisers 
unaccounted  for.  The  Kent  had  last  been  seen 
chasing  the  Nurnberg  towards  the  south-east, 
while  the  Dresden  was  disappearing  over  the  curve 
of  the  horizon  to  the  south.  Upon  the  following 
morning  no  news  had  come  in  from  the  Kent,  and 
some  anxiety  was  felt;  it  was  necessary  to  find 
her  before  proceeding  with  the  pursuit  of  the 
Dresden,  and  much  valuable  time  was  lost.  It 
happened  that  during  her  fight  with  the  Nurnberg, 
which  she  sank  in  a  most  business-like  fashion, 
the  Kent's  aerials  were  shot  away  and  she  lost 
wireless  contact  with  Sturdee's  squadron.  The 
Glasgow  was  ordered  off  to  search  for  her,  but 
fortunately  the  Kent  turned  up  on  the  morning  of 
the  10th  deservedly  triumphant.  She  had  per- 
formed the  great  feat  of  catching  and  sinking  a 
vessel  which  on  paper  was  much  faster  than  her- 
self, and  she  had  done  it  though  short  of  coal 
and  at  the  sacrifice  of  everything  wooden  on 
board,  including  the  wardroom  furniture.  She 
was  compelled  with  the  Glasgow  and  Cornwall  to 
return  to  Port  Stanley  for  coal,  and  this  delay  was 
of  the  utmost  service  to  the  fugitive  Dresden. 
Though  the  movements  of  that  cruiser,  in  the 
interval,  were  not  learned  until  much  later,  it 
will  be  convenient  if  I  give  them  now,  so  that  the 
situation  may  be  made  clear.  The  Dresden  had 
owed  her  escape  to  her  speed  and  to  the  occupation 


256  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

of  the  Glasgow — the  only  cruiser  upon  our  side 
which  could  catch  her — with  the  Leipzig.  She  got 
clear  away,  rounded  the  Horn  on  the  9th,  and  on 
December  10th  entered  the  Cockburn  Channel  on 
the  west  coast  of  Tierra  del  Fuego.  At  Stoll  Bay 
she  passed  the  night,  and  her  coal-bunkers  being 
empty  sent  men  ashore  to  cut  enough  wood  to 
enable  her  to  struggle  up  to  Punta  Arenas.  She 
ran  a  great  risk  by  making  for  so  conspicuous  a 
port,  but  she  had  no  choice.  Coal  must  be  obtained 
somehow  or  her  number  would  speedily  go  up. 
She  was  not  entitled  to  get  Chilian  coal,  for  she 
had  managed  to  delude  the  authorities  into  supply- 
ing her  upon  five  previous  occasions  during  the 
statutory  period  of  three  months.  Once  in  three 
months  a  belligerent  warship  is  permitted,  under 
the  Hague  Rules,  to  coal  at  the  ports  of  a  neutral 
country;  once  she  claims  this  privilege  she  is 
cut  off  from  getting  more  coal  from  the  same 
country  for  three  months.  But  the  Dresden  again 
managed,  as  she  had  already  done  four  tunes 
before,  to  secure  supplies  illegitimately.  She  coaled 
at  Punta  Arenas,  remained  there  for  thirty-one 
hours — though  after  twenty-four  hours  she  was 
liable  to  internment — and  left  at  10  p.m.  on  the 
13th.  It  was  this  disregard  for  the  Hague  Rules 
which  led  to  the  destruction  of  the  Dresden  in 
Chilian  territorial  waters  at  Juan  Fernandez  three 
months  later.  We  held  that  she  had  broken 
international  law  deliberately  many  times,  she 
was  no  longer  entitled  to  claim  its  protection. 
She  could  not  disregard  it  when  it  knocked  against 
her  convenience,  and  shelter  herself  under  it  when 
in  need  of  a  protective  mantle.  She  had  by  her 
own  violations  become  an  outlaw. 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW         257 

At  2.30  a.m.  on  the  13th,  Sturdee  learned  that 
the  Dresden  was  at  Punta  Arenas.  The  Bristol, 
which  was  ready,  jumped  off  the  mark  at  once; 
the  Inflexible  and  the  Glasgow,  which  were  not 
quite  ready,  got  off  at  9.15.  Thus  it  happened 
that  the  Bristol  reached  Punta  Arenas  seventeen 
hours  after  the  Dresden  had  left,  to  vanish,  as  it 
were,  into  space,  and  not  to  be  heard  of  again  for 
a  couple  of  months.  What  she  did  was  to  slip 
down  again  into  the  Cockburn  Channel  and  lie 
at  anchor  in  Hewett  Bay  near  the  southern  exit. 
On  December  26th  she  shifted  her  quarters  to  an 
uncharted  and  totally  uninhabited  creek,  called 
the  Gonzales  Channel,  and  there  she  lay  in  idle 
security  until  February  4th. 

During  the  long  weeks  of  the  Dresden's  stay  in 
Hewett  Bay  and  the  Gonzales  Channel,  the  English 
cruisers  were  busily  hunting  for  her  among  the 
islets  and  inlets  of  the  Magellan  Straits,  Tierra  del 
Fuego,  and  the  west  coast  of  the  South  American 
spur.  The  Carnarvon,  Cornwall,  and  Kent  took 
charge  of  the  Magellan  Straits,  the  Glasgow  and 
Bristol  ferreted  about  the  recesses  of  the  west 
coast  with  the  Inflexible  outside  of  them  to  chase 
the  sea-rat  should  she  break  cover  for  the  open. 
The  battle  cruiser  Australia  came  in  from  the 
Pacific  and  with  the  " County"  cruiser  Newcastle, 
from  Mexico,  kept  watch  off  Valparaiso.  The 
Dresden,  lying  snug  in  the  Gonzales  Channel,  was 
not  approached  except  once,  on  December  29th, 
when  one  of  the  searchers  was  within  twenty 
miles  of  her  hiding-place.  The  weather  was  thick 
and  she  was  not  seen.  The  big  ships  did  not  long 
waste  their  time  over  the  search.  It  was  one 
better  suited  to  light  craft,  for  lighter  craft  even 


258  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

than  the  Glasgow  or  Bristol,  for  which  the  uncharted 
channels  often  threatened  grave  dangers.  Armed 
patrols  or  picket  boats,  of  shallow  draught,  were 
best  suited  to  the  work,  and  in  its  later  stages  were 
furbished  up  and  made  available. 

On  December  16th  the  battle  cruisers  Invincible 
and  Inflexible  were  recalled  to  England,  and  the 
Canopus  went  north  to  act  as  guardship  at  the 
precious  Pirates'  Lair  which  has  figured  so  often 
in  these  pages.  The  Australia  passed  on  her  way 
to  the  Atlantic,  across  which  the  Canadian  con- 
tingents were  in  need  of  convoy,  and  the  super- 
vision of  the  Dresden  search  devolved  upon  Admiral 
Stoddart  of  the  Carnarvon.  The  Admiral  with  the 
Carnarvon  and  Cornwall  remained  in  and  out  of 
the  Magellan  Straits,  while  the  captain  of  the 
Glasgow,  with  him  the  Kent,  Bristol,  and  Newcastle, 
was  put  in  charge  of  the  Chilian  Archipelago. 
Gradually  as  time  went  on  and  the  Dresden  lay 
low — all  this  while  in  the  Gonzales  Channel — other 
ships  went  away  upon  more  urgent  duties  and  the 
chase  was  left  to  the  Glasgow,  Kent,  and  an  armed 
liner  Orama.  The  Bristol  had  butted  herself  ashore 
in  one  of  the  unsurveyed  channels  and  was  obliged 
to  seek  a  dock  for  repairs.  The  great  concen- 
tration of  which  the  Glasgow  had  been  the  focus 
was  over,  she  was  now  back  at  her  old  police 
work,  though  not  upon  her  old  station.  She  had 
begun  the  war  in  sole  charge  of  the  South  Atlantic; 
the  wheel  of  circumstance  had  brought  her,  with 
her  consorts,  to  the  charge  of  the  South  Pacific. 

Although  the  Glasgow's  company  had  had  many 
experiences  of  the  risks  of  war,  they  had  never 
felt  in  action  the  strain  upon  their  nerves  which 
was  always  with  them  day  in  day  out  during  that 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW         259 

long  weary  hunt  for  the  Dresden  in  the  Chilian 
Archipelago.  They  explored  no  less  than  7,000 
miles  of  narrow  waters,  for  the  most  part  uncharted, 
feeling  their  way  by  lead  and  by  mother  wit,  be- 
coming learned  hi  the  look  of  the  towering  rocks 
which  shut  them  in,  and  in  the  kelp  growing  upon 
their  sea  margins.  The  channels  wound  among 
steep  high  cliffs,  around  which  they  could  not  see. 
As  they  worked  stealthily  round  sharp  corners, 
they  were  always  expecting  to  encounter  the 
Dresden  with  every  gun  and  torpedo  tube  registered 
upon  the  narrow  space  into  which  they  must 
emerge.  Their  own  guns  and  torpedoes  were 
always  ready  for  instant  action,  but  in  this  game 
of  hide-and-seek  the  advantage  of  surprise  must 
always  rest  with  the  hidden  conscious  enemy.  This 
daily  strain  went  on  through  half  of  December 
and  the  wrhole  of  January  and  February!  One 
cannot  feel  surprised  to  learn  that  in  the  view  of 
the  Glasgow's  company  the  actions  of  Coronel  and 
the  Falklands  were  gay  picnics  when  set  in  com- 
parison with  that  hourly  expectation  throughout 
two  and  a  half  months  of  the  sudden  discovery  of 
the  Dresden,  and  that  anticipated  blast  of  every 
gun  and  mouldy  which  she  could  on  the  instant 
bring  to  bear.  Added  to  this  danger  of  sudden 
attack  was  the  ever-present  risk  of  maritime 
disaster.  It  is  no  light  task  to  navigate  for  three 
months  waters  to  which  exist  no  sailing  directions 
and  no  charts  of  even  tolerable  accuracy.  Upon 
Captain  Luce  and  upon  his  second  in  command, 
Lieutentant-Commander  Wilfred  Thompson,  rested 
a  load  of  responsibility  which  it  would  be  difficult 
to  overestimate. 

It  was  not  until  early  in  March  that  any  authentic 


260  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

news  of  the  movements  of  the  Dresden  became 
available.  Upon  February  4th  she  had  issued 
forth  of  the  Gonzales  Channel  and  crept  stealthily 
up  the  Chilian  coast.  To  the  Glasgow  had  come 
during  the  long  weeks  of  the  Dresden's  hiding  many 
reports  that  she  was  obliged  to  investigate.  Many 
times  our  own  cruisers  were  seen  by  ignorant 
observers  on  shore  and  mistaken  for  the  Dresden; 
out  would  flow  stories  which,  wandering  by  way 
of  South  American  ports — and  sometimes  by  way 
of  London  itself — would  come  to  rest  in  the  Glas- 
gow's wireless-room  and  increase  the  burden  thrown 
upon  her  officers.  More  than  once  she  was  taken 
by  shore  watchers  to  be  the  Dresden,  and  urgently 
warned  from  home  to  be  on  the  look-out  for  herself! 
At  last  the  veil  lifted.  The  Dresden,  with  her 
coal  of  Punta  Arenas  approaching  exhaustion,  was 
sighted  at  a  certain  spot  well  up  the  Chilian  coast 
where  had  been  situated  von  Spec's  secret  Lair. 
The  news  was  rushed  out  to  the  Glasgow,  and  since 
her  consort,  the  Kent,  was  nearest  to  the  designated 
spot  this  cruiser  was  despatched  at  once  to  in- 
vestigate. As  at  the  Falklands  action,  her 
engineers  rose  to  the  need  for  rapid  movement. 
For  thirty-six  hours  continuously  she  steamed 
northwards  at  seventeen  knots,  and  arrived  just 
before  daybreak  on  the  7th.  Nothing  was  then 
in  sight,  nor  until  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
of  the  following  day,  the  8th.  While  in  misty 
weather  the  Kent  was  waiting  and  watching  out  at 
sea,  a  cloud  bank  lifted  and  the  Dresden  was  re- 
vealed. She  had  not  been  seen  by  us  since  the 
day  of  her  flight,  December  8th,  exactly  three 
months  before!  The  Dresden  was  a  shabby 
spectacle,  her  paint  gone,  her  sides  raw  with  rust 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW         261 

and  standing  high  out  of  the  water.  She  was 
evidently  light,  and  almost  out  of  coal.  The  Kent 
at  once  made  for  her  quarry,  but  the  Dresden,  a 
much  faster  ship,  drew  away.  Foul  as  she  was, 
for  she  had  not  been  in  dock  since  the  war  began, 
the  Kent  was  little  cleaner.  The  Dresden  drew 
away,  but  the  relentless  pursuit  of  the  indefatigable 
Kent  kept  her  at  full  speed  for  six  hours,  and  left 
her  with  no  more  than  enough  fuel  to  reach  Masa- 
fuera  or  Juan  Fernandez.  By  thus  forcing  the 
Dresden  to  burn  most  of  the  fuel  which  still 
remained  in  her  bunkers,  the  Kent  performed  an 
invaluable  service.  This  was  on  March  8th.  Juan 
Fernandez  was  judged  to  be  the  most  likely  spot 
in  which  she  would  take  refuge,  and  thither  the 
Glasgow,  Kent,  and  Orama  foregathered,  arriving 
at  daybreak  on  the  14th.  In  Cumberland  Bay, 
600  yards  from  the  shore,  the  Dresden  lay  at 
anchor;  the  chase  was  over.  She  had  arrived 
at  8.30  a.m.  on  the  9th;  she  had  been  in  Chilian 
waters  for  nearly  five  days.  Yet  her  flag  was  still 
flying,  and  there  was  no  evidence  that  she  had 
been  interned.  Cumberland  Bay  is  a  small  settle- 
ment, and  there  was  no  Chilian  force  present 
capable  of  interning  a  German  warship. 

I  will  indicate  what  happened.  The  main  facts 
have  been  told  in  the  correspondence  which  took 
place  later  between  the  Chilian  and  British  Govern- 
ments. I  will  tell  the  story  as  I  have  myself 
gathered  it,  and  as  I  interpret  it. 

The  Dresden  lay  in  neutral  Chilian  waters,  yet 
her  flag  was  flying,  and  she  had  trained  her  guns 
upon  the  English  squadron  which  had  found  her 
there.  There  was  nothing  to  prevent  her — though 
liable  to  internment — from  making  off  unless  steps 


262  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

were  taken  at  once  to  put  her  out  of  action.  She 
had  many  times  before  broken  the  neutrality 
regulations  of  Chili,  and  was  rightly  held  by  us 
to  be  an  outlaw  to  be  captured  or  sunk  at  sight. 
Acting  upon  this  just  interpretation  of  the  true 
meaning  of  neutrality,  Captain  Luce  of  the  Glasgow, 
the  senior  naval  officer,  directed  his  own  guns  and 
those  of  the  Kent  to  be  immediately  fired  upon  the 
Dresden.  The  first  broadside  dismounted  her  fore- 
castle guns  and  set  her  ablaze.  She  returned  the 
fire  without  touching  either  of  the  English  ships. 
Then,  after  an  inglorious  two  and  a  half  minutes, 
the  Dresden's  flag  came  down. 

Captain  Liidecke  of  the  Dresden  despatched  a 
boat  conveying  his  "adjutant"  to  the  Glasgow 
for  what  he  called  "negotiations,"  but  the  English 
captain  declined  a  parley.  He  would  accept 
nothing  but  unconditional  surrender.  Liidecke 
claimed  that  his  ship  was  entitled  to  remain  in 
Cumberland  Bay  for  repairs,  that  she  had  not 
been  interned,  and  that  his  flag  had  been  struck 
as  a  signal  of  negotiation  and  not  of  surrender. 
When  the  Englishman  Luce  would  not  talk  except 
through  the  voices  of  his  guns,  the  German  adjutant 
went  back  to  his  ship  and  Liidecke  then  blew  her 
up.  His  crew  had  already  gone  ashore,  and  the 
preparations  for  destroying  the  Dresden  had  been 
made  before  her  captain  entered  upon  his  so-called 
"negotiations." 

It  was  upon  the  whole  fortunate  that  Liidecke 
took  the  step  of  sinking  the  Dresden  himself.  It 
might  have  caused  awkward  diplomatic  com- 
plications had  we  taken  possession  of  her  in 
undoubted  Chilian  territorial  waters,  and  yet  we 
could  not  have  permitted  her  any  opportunity  of 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  GLASGOW         263 

escaping  under  the  fiction  of  internment.  Nothing 
would  have  been  heard  of  internment  if  the  English 
squadron  had  not  turned  up — the  Dresden  had 
already  made  an  appointment  with  a  collier — and 
if  we  had  not  by  our  fire  so  damaged  the  cruiser 
that  she  could  not  have  taken  once  more  to  the 
sea.  Her  self-destruction  saved  us  a  great  deal 
of  trouble.  In  the  interval  between  the  firing 
and  the  sinking  of  the  Dresden,  the  Maritime 
Governor  of  Juan  Fernandez  suggested  that  the 
English  should  take  away  essential  parts  of  the 
machinery  and  telegraph  for  a  Chilian  warship 
to  do  the  internment  business.  Neither  of  these 
proceedings  was  necessary  after  the  explosion. 
The  Dresden  was  at  the  bottom  of  Cumberland 
Bay,  and  the  British  Government  apologised  to 
the  Chilians  for  the  technical  violation  of  territorial 
waters.  The  apology  was  accepted,  and  everyone 
was  happy — not  the  least  the  officers  and  men 
of  the  Dresden  who,  after  months  of  aimless,  hope- 
less wanderings,  found  themselves  still  alive  and 
in  a  sunny  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey. 
After  their  long  stay  in  Tierra  del  Fuego  the 
warmth  of  Chili  must  have  seemed  like  paradise. 
The  Dresden  yielded  to  the  Glasgow  one  item  of 
the  spoils  of  war.  After  the  German  cruiser  had 
sunk,  a  small  pig  was  seen  swimming  about  in 
the  Bay.  It  had  been  left  behind  by  its  late  friends, 
but  found  new  ones  in  the  Glasgow's  crew.  That 
pig  is  alive  still,  or  was  until  quite  recently.  Grown 
very  large,  very  hairy,  and  very  truculent,  and 
appropriately  named  von  Tirpitz,  it  has  been 
preserved  from  the  fate  which  waits  upon  less 
famous  pigs,  and  possesses  hi  England  a  sty  and  a 
nameplate  all  to  its  distinguished  self. 


264  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

With  the  sinking  of  the  Dresden  the  cruise  of  the 
Glasgow,  which  I  have  set  out  to  tell,  comes  to  a 
close.  She  returned  to  the  South  Atlantic,  and 
for  a  further  stretch  of  eighteen  months  her  officers 
and  men  continued  their  duties  on  board.  But 
life  must  for  them  have  become  rather  dull.  There 
were  no  more  Coronels,  or  Falkland  Islands  actions, 
or  hunts  for  elusive  German  cruisers.  Just  the 
daily  work  of  a  light  cruiser  on  patrol  duty  in  time 
of  war.  When  in  the  limelight  they  played  their 
part  worthily,  and  I  do  not  doubt  continued  to 
play  it  as  worthily,  though  less  conspicuously, 
when  they  passed  into  the  darkness  of  the  wings, 
and  other  officers,  other  men,  and  other  ships 
occupied  hi  their  turn  the  bright  scenes  upon  the 
naval  stage. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE    BATTLE    OF    THE    GIANTS!      SOME    IMPRESSIONS 
AND   REFLECTIONS 

PART  I 

IT  is  strange  how  events  of  great  national  impor- 
tance become  associated  in  one's  mind  with  small 
personal  experiences.  I  have  told  with  what 
vividness  I  remember  the  receipt  in  November, 
1914,  of  private  news  that  the  battle  cruisers  In- 
vincible and  Inflexible  had  left  Devonport  for  the 
Falkland  Islands,  and  how  I  heard  Lord  Rosebery 
read  out  Sturdee's  victorious  dispatch  to  6,000 
people  hi  St.  Andrew's  Hall,  Glasgow.  In  a 
similar  way  the  Jutland  battle  became  impressed 
upon  my  mind  in  an  unforgettable  personal  fashion. 
On  May  22nd,  1916, 1  learned  that  Admiral  Beatty 
had  at  his  disposal  the  four  "Cats" — Lion,  Tiger, 
Queen  Mary,  and  Princess  Royal — of  about  twenty- 
nine  knots  speed,  and  each  armed  with  eight  13.5- 
inch  guns,  the  two  battle  cruisers  New  Zealand 
and  Indefatigable,  of  some  twenty-seven  knots  of 
speed,  and  carrying  each  eight  12-inch  guns,  and 
the  Queen  Elizabeths,  of  twenty-five  knots,  all  of 
which  were  armed  with  eight  of  the  new  15-inch 
guns,  which  were  a  great  advance  upon  the  earlier 
thirteen-point-fives.  The  ships  of  the  Fifth  Battle 
Squadron  had  all  been  completed  since  the  war 

265 


266  •     THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

began.  The  Queen  Elizabeth  herself  went  into 
dock  at  Rosyth  for  repairs,  so  that  for  immediate 
service  the  squadron  was  reduced  to  four  ships — 
Barham,  Valiant,  Warspite,  and  Malaya. 

Upon  the  following  Saturday,  May  27th,  I  was 
invited  to  lunch  in  one  of  the  battleships,  but 
upon  arrival  at  South  Queensferry,  I  found  the 
Fleet  under  Short  Notice  for  sea,  and  no  one  was 
allowed  to  leave  the  ships,  or  to  receive  friends 
on  board.  It  was  a  beautiful  day,  the  long,  light- 
coloured  Cats  and  the  Futurist-grey  battleships 
were  a  most  noble  sight,  but  I  felt  too  much  like 
a  Peri  shut  out  of  Paradise  to  be  happy  in  observing 
them.  A  day  or  two  later,  Thursday,  June  1st, 
was  fixed  for  my  next  visit,  but  again  the  Fates 
were  unkind.  When  I  arrived  in  the  early  morn- 
ing and  stood  upon  the  heights  overlooking  the 
anchorage,  Beatty's  Fleet  had  gone,  and,  though 
I  did  not  know  it,  had  even  then  fought  the  Jutland 
battle.  In  the  afternoon,  news  came  with  the 
return  to  the  Forth  of  the  damaged  battleship 
Warspite  surrounded  by  her  attendant  destroyers. 
That  was  on  the  Thursday  afternoon,  but  it  was 
not  until  the  evening  of  Friday  that  the  first 
Admiralty  message  was  issued,  that  famous  message 
which  will  never  be  forgotten  either  by  the  country 
or  by  the  Navy.  The  impression  which  it  made 
may  be  simply  illustrated.  I  was  sitting  in  my 
drawing-room  after  dinner,  anxiously  looking  for 
news  "both  on  national  and  personal  grounds,  when 
a  newsboy  shrieked  under  my  window  "Great 
Naval  Disaster:  Five  British  Battleships  Sunk." 
The  news  printed  in  the  paper  was  not  so  bad  as 
that  shouted,  but  it  was  bad  enough;  it  gave  the 
impression  of  very  heavy  losses  incurred  for  no 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  267 

compensating  purpose,  and  turned  what  had  really 
been  a  conspicuous  naval  success  into  an  apology 
for  a  naval  disaster.  As  a  humble  student,  I 
could  to  some  extent  read  between  the  lines  of 
the  dispatch  and  dimly  perceive  what  had  hap- 
pened, but  to  the  mass  of  the  British  public,  the 
wording  of  that,  immortal  document  could  not 
have  been  worse  conceived.  To  them  it  seemed 
that  the  End  of  All  Things  was  at  hand. 

The  story  runs  that  the  first  bulletin  was  made 
up  by  clerks  from  scraps  of  messages  which  came 
over  the  wireless  from  the  Grand  Fleet,  but  in 
which  the  most  important  sentence  of  all  was 
omitted.  "The  Germans  are  claiming  a  victory," 
wailed  the  Admiralty  clerks  through  the  aerials 
at  Whitehall.  "What  shall  we  say?"  "Say," 
snapped  the  Grand  Fleet,  "say  that  we  gave  them 
hell!"  If  the  Admiralty  had  only  said  this, 
said  it,  too,  in  curt,  blasphemous  naval  fashion, 
the  public  would  have  understood,  and  all  would 
have  been  well.  What  a  dramatic  chance  was 
then  lost!  Think  what  a  roar  of  laughter  and 
cheering  would  have  echoed  round  the  world  if 
the  first  dispatch  had  run  as  follows : 

"We  have  met  and  fought  the  German  Fleet, 
and  given  it  hell.  Beatty  lost  the  Queen  Mary 
and  Indefatigable  in  the  first  part  of  the  battle 
when  the  odds  were  heavily  against  us,  but  Jellicoe 
coming  up  enveloped  the  enemy,  and  was  only 
prevented  by  mist  and  low  visibility  from  destroy- 
ing him  utterly.  The  Germans  have  lost  as  many 
ships  as  we  have,  and  are  shattered  beyond  repair." 

That  message,  in  a  few  words,  would  have  given 
a  true  impression  of  the  greatest  sea  fight  that 
the  world  has  known,  a  fight,  too,  which  has 


268  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

established  beyond  question  the  unchallengeable 
supremacy  of  British  strategy,  battle  tactics,  sea- 
manship, discipline,  and  devotion  to  duty  of  every 
man  and  boy  in  the  professional  Navy.  In  the 
technical  sense,  it  was  an  indecisive  battle:  the 
Germans  escaped  destruction.  But  morally,  and 
in  its  practical  results,  no  sea  fight  has  been  more 
decisive.  Nearly  two  years  have  passed  since  that 
morning  of  June  1st  when  the  grey  dawn  showed 
the  seas  empty  of  German  ships,  and  though  the 
High  Seas  Fleet  has  put  out  many  times  since 
then,  it  has  never  again  ventured  to  engage  us. 
Jutland  drove  sea  warfare,  for  the  Germans,  be- 
neath the  surface,  a  petty  war  of  raids  upon 
merchant  vessels,  a  war — as  against  neutrals — 
of  piracy  and  murder.  By  eight  o'clock  on  the 
evening  of  May  31st,  1916,  the  Germans  had  been 
out-fought,  out-manoeuvred,  and  cut  off  from  their 
bases.  Had  the  battle  begun  three  hours  earlier, 
and  had  visibility  been  as  full  as  it  had  been  hi 
the  Falkland  Islands  action,  had  there  been,  above 
all,  ample  sea  room,  there  would  not  have  been 
a  German  battleship  afloat  when  the  sun  went 
down.  There  never  was  a  luckier  fleet  than  that 
one  which  scrambled  away  through  the  darkness 
of  May  3 1st- June  1st,  worked  its  way  round  the 
enveloping  horns  of  Jellicoe,  Beatty,  and  Evan- 
Thomas,  and  arrived  gasping  and  shattered  at 
Wilhelmshaven.  We  can  pardon  the  Kaiser,  who, 
in  his  relief  for  a  crowning  mercy,  proclaimed  the 
escape  to  be  a  glorious  victory. 

But  though  the  Kaiser  may,  after  his  manner, 
talk  of  victories,  German  naval  officers  cherish 
no  illusions  about  Jutland.  If  one  takes  the 
trouble  to  analyse  their  very  full  dispatches,  their 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  269 

relief  at  escaping  destruction  shines  forth  too 
plainly  to  be  mistaken.  Admiral  Scheer  got  away, 
and  showed  himself  to  be  a  consummate  master 
of  his  art.  But  he  never,  in  his  dispatches,  claims 
that  the  British  Fleets  were  defeated  in  the  military 
sense.  They  were  foiled,  chiefly  through  his  own 
skill,  but  they  were  not  defeated.  The  German 
dispatches  state  definitely  that  the  battle  of 
May  31st  "  confirmed  the  old  truth,  that  the  large 
fighting  ship,  the  ship  which  combines  the  maximum 
of  strength  in  attack  and  defence,  rules  the  seas." 
The  relation  of  strength,  they  say,  between  the 
English  and  German  Fleets,  "was  roughly  two 
to  one."  They  do  not  claim  that  this  over- 
whelming superiority  hi  our  strength  was  sensibly 
reduced  by  the  losses  in  the  battle,  nor  that  the 
large  English  fighting  ships — admittedly  larger, 
much  more  numerous,  and  more  powerfully  gunned 
than  their  own — ceased  after  Jutland  to  rule  the 
seas.  Their  claim,  critically  examined,  is  simply 
that  in  the  circumstances  the  German  ships  made 
a  highly  successful  escape.  And  so  indeed  they 
did. 

The  Jutland  battle  always  presents  itself  to  my 
mind  in  a  series  of  clear-cut  pictures.  Very  few 
of  those  who  take  part  in  a  big  naval  battle  see 
anything  of  it.  They  are  at  their  stations,  occupied 
with  their  pressing  duties,  and  the  world  without 
is  hidden  from  them.  I  try  to  imagine  the  various 
phases  of  the  battle  as  they  were  unfolded  before 
the  eyes  of  those  few  in  the  fighting  squadrons 
who  did  see.  Perhaps  if  I  try  to  paint  for  my 
readers  those  scenes  which  are  vividly  before  me, 
I  may  convey  to  them  something  of  what  I  have 
tried  to  learn  myself. 


270  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

Let  us  transport  ourselves  to  the  signal  bridge 
of  Admiral  Beatty's  flagship,  the  battle  cruiser 
Lion,  and  take  up  station  there  upon  the  after- 
noon of  May  31st,  at  half -past  two.  It  is  a  fine 
afternoon,  though  hazy;  the  clouds  lie  in  heavy 
banks,  and  the  horizon,  instead  of  appearing  as 
a  hard  line,  is  an  indefinable  blend  of  grey  sea  and 
grey  cloud.  It  is  a  day  of  "low  visibility,"  a 
day  greatly  favouring  a  weak  fleet  which  desires 
to  evade  a  decisive  action.  We  have  been  sweep- 
ing the  lower  North  Sea,  and  are  steering  towards 
the  north-west  on  our  way  to  rejoin  Jellicoe's 
mam  Fleet.  Our  flagship,  Lion,  is  the  leading 
vessel  of  the  First  Battle  Cruiser  Squadron,  and 
following  behind  us,  we  can  see  the  Princess  Royal, 
Queen  Mary,  and  Tiger.  At  a  little  distance  be- 
hind the  Tiger  appear  the  two  ships  which  remain 
to  us  of  the  Second  Battle  Cruiser  Squadron,  the 
Indefatigable  and  New  Zealand,  fine  powerful  ships, 
but  neither  so  fast  nor  so  powerful  as  are  our 
four  Cats  of  the  First  Squadron.  Some  five 
or  six  miles  to  the  west  of  us  we  can  make  out, 
against  the  afternoon  sky,  the  huge  bulk  of  the 
Barham,  which,  followed  by  her  three  consorts, 
Valiant,  Warspite,  and  Malaya,  leads  the  Fifth 
Battle  Squadron  of  the  most  powerful  fighting 
ships  afloat.  We  are  the  spear-head  of  Beatty's 
Fleet,  but  those  great  ships  yonder,  silhouetted 
against  the  sky,  are  its  most  solid  shaft. 

Word  runs  round  the  ship  that  the  enemy  has 
been  sighted,  but  since  we  know  nothing  of  his 
numbers  or  of  his  quality — Jutland,  though  antici- 
pated and  worked  for,  was  essentially  a  battle 
of  encounter — our  light  cruisers  fly  off  to  make 
touch  and  find  out  for  us.  Away  also  soars 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  271 


«5heUand  I? 


Orfrne 


Sc 


Scale  of  Miles 


wo         so        o  too  200 

THE  BATTLE   OF  TUE   GIANTS. 


272  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

seaplane,  rising  from  the  platform  of  our  carrying 
ship  Engadine,  a  clumsy-looking  seagull,  with  its 
big  pontoon  feet,  but  very  fast  and  very  deftly 
handled.  The  seaplane  flies  low,  for  the  clouds 
droop  towards  the  sea,  it  is  heavily  fired  upon, 
but  is  not  hit,  and  it  returns  to  tell  us — or  rather 
the  Admiral,  in  his  conning  tower  below — just 
what  he  wishes  to  learn.  There  is  an  enemy 
battle  cruiser  squadron  immediately  in  front  of 
us,  consisting  of  five  armoured  ships,  with  their 
attendant  light  cruisers  and  destroyers.  The  Ger- 
man battle  cruisers  are:  Derfflinger  (12-inch  guns), 
Lutzow  (12-inch),  Moltke  (11-inch),  Seydlitz  (11- 
inch),  and  another  stated  by  the  Germans  to  be 
the  Von  der  Tann,  which  had  more  than  once  been 
reported  lost.  Since  our  four  big  battle  cruisers 
carry  13.5-inch  guns,  and  two  other  guns  of  12-inch, 
and  the  four  battleships  supporting  us  great 
15-inch  weapons,  we  ought  to  eat  up  the  German 
battle  cruisers  if  we  can  draw  near  enough  to  see 
them  distinctly.  By  half-past  three  the  two 
British  battle  cruiser  squadrons  are  moving  at 
twenty-five  knots,  formed  up  in  line  of  battle, 
and  the  Fifth  Battle  Squadron,  still  some  five 
miles  away,  is  steaming  at  about  twenty-three 
knots.  The  Germans  have  turned  in  a  southerly 
direction,  and  are  flying  at  full  speed  upon  a  course 
which  is  roughly  parallel  with  that  which  we 
have  now  taken  up.  During  the  past  hour  we 
have  come  round  nearly  twelve  points — eight 
points  go  to  a  right  angle — and  are  now  speeding 
away  from  Jellicoe's  Grand  Fleet,  which  is  some 
forty  miles  distant  to  the  north  and  west.  Since 
we  are  faster  than  Jellicoe,  the  gap  between  us  and 
him  is  steadily  opening  out. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  273 

From  the  signal  bridge,  a  very  exposed  position, 
we  can  see  the  turret  guns  below  us  and  the  spotting 
top  above.  The  turrets  swing  round,  as  the 
gunners  inside  get  their  directions  from  the  gunnery- 
control  officer  who,  in  his  turn,  receives  every  few 
moments  the  results  of  the  range-finding  and  rate- 
of-change  observations  which  are  being  continually 
taken  by  petty  officers  charged  with  the  duty. 
Further  corrections  will  be  made  when  the  guns 
begin  to  shoot,  and  the  spotting  officers  aloft 
watch  for  the  splashes  of  the  shells  as  they  fall 
into  the  sea.  Naval  gunnery,  in  spite  of  all  the 
brains  and  experience  lavished  upon  it,  must 
always  be  far  from  an  exact  science.  One  has  to 
do  with  moving  ships  firing  at  other  moving  ships, 
many  factors  which  go  to  a  precise  calculation  are 
imperfectly  known,  and  though  the  margin  of 
error  may  be  reduced  by  modern  instruments  of 
precision,  the  long  fighting  ranges  of  to-day  make 
the  error  substantial.  The  lower  the  visibility, 
the  greater  becomes  the  gunner's  uncertainty,  for 
neither  range-finding  nor  spotting  can  be  carried 
on  with  accuracy.  Even  on  the  clearest  of  days 
it  is  difficult  to  "spot"  a  shell-splash  at  more 
than  14,000  yards  (eight  land  miles),  a  range  which 
is  short  for  the  huge  naval  gun.  When  many 
guns  are  firing,  it  is  not  easy  to  pick  up  the  splashes 
of  one's  own  shells,  and  to  distinguish  between 
their  water-bursts  and  the  camouflage  put  up  by 
an  enemy. 

At  our  position  upon  the  signal  bridge,  though 
we  are  there  only  in  spirit,  we  probably  feel  much 
more  of  excitement  than  does  any  officer  or  man 
of  the  big  ship  upon  which  we  have  intruded  our 
ghostly  presence.  Most  of  them  can  see  nothing; 


274  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

all  of  them  are  too  busy  upon  their  duties  to 
bother  about  personal  feelings.  There  is  an  atmos- 
phere of  serene  confidence  in  themselves  and  their 
ship  which  communicates  itself  even  to  outsiders 
like  us.  At  3.48  the  enemy  is  some  18,500  yards 
distance,  and  visible,  for  the  light  has  improved, 
and  firing  begins  almost  simultaneously  from  us 
and  our  opponents.  The  first  crash  from  the 
Lion's  two  fore-turrets  nearly  throws  us  off  the 
bridge,  so  sudden  and  fierce  it  is,  and  so  little  does 
its  intensity  seem  to  be  subdued  by  our  ear-pro- 
tectors. But  as  other  crashes  follow  down  the 
line  we  grow  accustomed  to  them,  grip  tightly  at 
the  hand-rail,  and  forget  ourselves  in  the  grandeur 
of  the  sight  unfolding  itself  before  us.  Away,  far 
away,  is  the  enemy,  hull  down,  smothered  in  smoke 
and  by  the  huge  gouts  of  spray  thrown  up  by  our 
bursting  shells.  He  is  adding  to  the  splashes  by 
firing  his  own  side  batteries  into  the  sea  to  confuse 
the  judgment  of  our  spotters. 

At  each  discharge  from  our  ship,  a  great  cone  of 
incandescent  gas  flames  forth,  cutting  like  a  sword 
through  the  pale  curtain  of  smoke.  From  the 
distant  enemy  ships  we  can  see  thin  flashes  spurt 
in  reply,  and  his  shells  pitch  beside  us  and  over 
us,  lashing  our  decks  with  sea  foam  and  sometimes 
throwing  a  torrent  of  water  over  the  spotting 
top  and  bridge.  Before  five  minutes  have  passed, 
we  are  wet  through,  our  ears  are  drumming  in 
spite  of  the  faithful  protectors,  and  all  sensation 
except  of  absorbed  interest  hi  the  battle  has  left  us. 
At  any  moment  we  may  be  scattered  by  a  bursting 
shell,  or  carried  to  the  bottom  with  our  sunken 
ship,  but  we  do  not  give  a  thought  to  the  risks. 

WJiile  we  are   firing  at  the  enemy,  and  he  is 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  275 

firing  at  us  at  ranges  varying  from  ten  to  eight 
miles,  a  fierce  battle  is  going  on  between  the  lines 
of  big  ships.  Light  cruisers  are  fighting  light 
cruisers,  destroyers  are  rushing  upon  destroyers. 
At  an  early  stage  in  the  action,  the  German  Admiral 
Hipper — hi  command  of  the  battle  cruisers — 
launched  fifteen  destroyers  at  our  line,  and  was 
taught  a  rough  lesson  hi  the  quality  of  the  bo^-s 
who  man  our  T.B.D.s.  Twelve  of  our  heavier  and 
more  powerfully  armed  destroyers  fell  upon  the 
German  fifteen,  huddled  them  into  a  bunch,  and 
had  started  to  lay  them  out  scientifically  with 
gun  and  torpedo,  when  they  fled  back  to  the  shelter 
of  their  own  big  ships.  Following  them  up,  our 
destroyers  delivered  a  volley  of  torpedoes  upon  the 
German  battle  cruisers  at  less  than  3,000  yards 
distance.  Probably  no  damage  was  done,  for  it 
is  the  forlornest  of  jobs  to  loose  mouldies  against 
fast  manoeuvring  ships,  but  lack  of  success  does  not 
in  any  way  dim  the  splendour  of  the  attempt.  As 
light  cruisers  and  destroyers  fight  and  manoeuvre, 
the  torrent  of  heavy  shells  screams  over  their 
heads,  flying  as  high  hi  their  course  as  Alpine 
mountains,  and  dropping  almost  vertically  near 
the  lines  of  battle  cruisers. 

As  soon  as  we  turned  to  the  south  in  pursuit  of 
Hipper's  advance  squadron  of  battle  cruisers, 
Admiral  Evan-Thomas  closed  his  supporting  battle- 
ships upon  us,  and  we  can  now  see  them  clearly 
about  two  miles  away  on  our  starboard  quarter, 
formed  in  line  of  battle,  the  flagship  Barham  leading. 
At  eight  minutes  past  four  they  join  in  the  fight, 
firing  at  a  range  of  20,000  yards  (twelve  miles), 
not  an  excessive  distance  for  their  tremendous 
flat-shooting  15-inch  guns  if  the  light  were  good, 


276  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

but  too  far  for  accuracy  now  that  the  enemy  ships 
can  be  seen  so  very  indistinctly.  Up  to  now  the 
German  gunnery  has  been  good;  our  ships  have 
not  often  been  seriously  struck,  but  the  shells  in 
bunched  salvoes  have  fallen  very  closely  beside 
us.  Our  armour,  though  much  thinner  than  that 
of  the  battleships  behind  us,  is  sufficient  to  keep 
off  the  enemy's  light  shells — our  13.5-inch  shells 
are  twice  the  weight  of  his  11-inch,  and  the  15-inch 
shells  fired  by  the  Queen  Elizabeths  astern  of  us 
are  more  than  twice  the  weight  of  his  12-inch. 
We  feel  little  anxiety  for  our  turrets,  conning 
towers,  or  sides,  but  we  notice  how  steeply  his 
salvoes  are  falling  at  the  long  ranges,  and  are 
not  without  concern  for  our  thin  decks  should 
any  12-inch  shells  of  850  Ib.  weight  plump  fairly 
upon  them  from  the  skies.  By  half-past  four  the 
German  fire  has  slackened  a  good  deal,  has  become 
ragged  and  inaccurate,  showing  that  we  are  getting 
home  with  our  heavy  stuff,  and  the  third  ship  in 
the  line  is  seen  to  be  on  fire.  All  is  going  well, 
the  enemy  is  outclassed  in  ships  and  in  guns;  we 
are  still  between  him  and  his  bases  to  the  south- 
west, he  is  already  becoming  squeezed  up  against 
the  big  banks  which  stretch  out  one  hundred  miles 
from  the  Jutland  coast,  and  for  a  while  it  looks  as 
if  Beatty  had  struck  something  both  soft  and  good. 
But  a  few  minutes  make  a  great  change.  All 
through  the  last  hour  we  have  been  steaming  fast 
towards  the  main  German  High  Seas  Fleet  and 
away  from  Jellicoe,  and  at  4.42  the  leading  German 
battleships  can  be  seen  upon  the  smoky  horizon 
to  the  south-east.  Though  we  do  not  know  it 
yet,  the  whole  High  Seas  Fleet  is  before  us,  in- 
cluding sixteen  of  the  best  German  ships,  and  it 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  277 

were  the  worst  of  folly  to  go  any  farther  towards 
it.  We  could,  it  is  true,  completely  outflank  it 
by  continuing  on  our  present  course,  and  with 
our  high  speed  might  avoid  being  crushed  hi  a 
general  action,  but  we  should  have  irrevocably 
separated  ourselves  from  Jellicoe,  and  have  com- 
mitted a  tactical  mistake  of  the  biggest  kind.  We 
should  have  divided  the  English  forces  in  the  face 
of  the  enemy,  instead  of  concentrating  them.  So 
a  quick  order  comes  from  the  conning  tower  below, 
and  away  beside  us  runs  a  signal  hoist.  "Sixteen 
points,  starboard."  Sixteen  points  mean  a  com- 
plete half-circle,  and  round  come  our  ships,  the 
Lion  leading,  turning  in  a  curve  of  which  the 
diameter  is  nearly  a  mile,  and  heading  now  to 
the  north,  towards  Jellicoe,  instead  of  to  the 
south,  away  from  him.  Our  purpose  now  is  to 
keep  the  Germans  fully  occupied  until  Jellicoe, 
who  is  driving  his  battleships  at  their  fullest  speed, 
can  come  down  and  wipe  Fritz  off  the  seas.  As 
we  come  round,  the  German  battle  cruisers  follow 
our  manoeuvre,  and  also  turn  through  sixteen 
points  in  order  to  place  themselves  at  the  head  of 
the  enemy's  battle  line. 

As  we  swing  round  and  take  up  our  new  course, 
we  pass  between  the  Queen  Elizabeths  and  the 
enemy,  masking  their  fire,  and  for  a  few  minutes 
we  are  exposed  in  the  midst  of  a  critical  manoeuvre 
to  the  concentrated  salvoes  of  every  German 
battleship  within  range.  The  range  is  long,  the 
German  shells  fired  with  high  elevation  fall  very 
steeply,  and  we  are  safe  except  from  the  ill-luck 
of  heavy  projectiles  pitching  upon  our  decks. 
From  the  signal  bridge  of  the  Lion  we  can  see 
every  battle  cruiser  as  it  swings,  or  as  it  approaches 


278  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

the  turning  point,  we  can  see  the  whole  beautiful 
length  of  them,  and  we  also  see  a  sight  which  has 
never  before  been  impressed  upon  the  eyes  of  man. 
For  we  see  two  splendid  battle  cruisers  struck  and 
sink;  first  the  Indefatigable,  and  then  the  Queen 
Mary.  It  is  not  permitted  to  us  to  describe  the 
scene  as  actually  it  presented  itself  to  our  eyes. 

Beatty  has  lost  two  battle  cruisers,  one  of  the 
first  class  and  one  of  the  second.  There  remain 
to  him  four — the  three  Cats  and  the  New  Zealand; 
he  is  sorely  weakened,  but  does  not  hesitate.  He 
has  two  duties  to  carry  out — to  lead  the  enemy 
towards  Jellicoe,  and  so  dispose  of  his  battle 
cruisers  beyond  the  head  of  the  German  lines  as 
powerfully  to  aid  Jellicoe  hi  completing  their 
development.  Beatty  is  now  round,  and  round 
also  comes  the  Fifth  Battle  Squadron,  forming 
astern  of  the  battle  cruisers,  and  with  them  engag- 
ing the  leading  German  ships.  The  enemy  is  some 
14,000  yards  distant  from  us  in  the  Lion  (8| 
miles),  and  this  range  changes  little  while  Beatty 
is  speeding  first  north  and  then  north-east,  in 
order  to  cross  the  "T"  of  the  German  line.  We 
will  continue  to  stand  upon  the  Lion's  bridge  during 
the  execution  of  this  most  spirited  manoeuvre, 
and  then  leave  Beatty's  flagship  in  order  to  observe 
from  the  spotting  top  of  a  battleship  how  the  four 
Queen  Elizabeths  fought  the  whole  High  Seas 
Fleet,  while  our  battle  cruisers  were  turning  its 
van.  What  these  splendid  ships  did,  and  did  to 
perfection,  was  to  stall  the  Germans  off,  and  so 
give  time  both  for  the  enveloping  movement  of 
Beatty  and  for  the  arrival  and  deployment  of 
Jellicoe's  main  Fleet. 

By  five  o'clock  Beatty  is  fairly  off  upon  his 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  279 

gallant  adventure,  and  during  the  next  hour,  the 
hardest  fought  part  of  the  whole  battle,  the  gap 
between  the  battle  cruisers  and  the  four  supporting 
battleships  steadily  widens.  -  If  the  Germans  are 
to  be  enveloped,  Beatty  must  at  the  critical  moment 
allow  sufficient  space  between  himself  and  Evan- 
Thomas  for  Jellicoe  to  deploy  his  big  Fleet  between 
them,  and  this  involves  on  the  part  of  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief  a  deployment  in  the  midst  of 
battle  of  a  delicacy  and  accuracy  only  possible  to 
a  naval  tactician  of  the  highest  order.  But  both 
Beatty  and  Evan-Thomas  know  their  Jellicoe,  to 
whom,  at  few-minute  intervals,  crackle  from  the 
aerials  above  us  wireless  messages  giving  with 
naval  precision  the  exact  courses  and  speeds  of 
our  ships  and  the  bearings  of  the  enemy.  For  an 
hour — up  to  the  moment  when  we  turned  to  the 
north — we  ran  away  from  Jellicoe,  but  during 
the  next  hour  we  steamed  towards  him;  we  know 
that  he  is  pressing  to  our  aid  with  all  the  speed 
which  his  panting  engineers  can  get  out  of  his 
squadrons.  Beatty's  battle  cruisers,  curving  round 
the  head  of  the  German  line  at  a  range  of  14,000 
to  12,000  yards,  are  firing  all  the  while,  and  being 
fired  at  all  the  while,  but  though  often  hit,  they  are 
safer  now  than  when  they  were  a  couple  of  miles 
more  distant. 

We  have  now  reached  a  very  important  phase 
in  the  battle.  It  is  twenty  minutes  past  six. 
At  six  o'clock  the  leading  vessels  of  Jellicoe's 
Grand  Fleet  had  been  sighted  five  miles  to  the 
north  of  us  and  his  three  battle  cruisers — In- 
vincible (Admiral  Hood),  Inflexible,  and  Indomitable 
— have  flown  down  to  the  help  of  Beatty.  They 
come  into  action,  steaming  hard  due  south,  and 


280  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

take  station  ahead  of  us  in  the  Lion.  By  this 
lengthening  of  his  line  to  the  south  Beatty  has  now 
completely  enveloped  the  German  battle  cruisers, 
which  turn  through  some  twelve  points  and  endeav- 
our to  wriggle  out  of  the  jaws  of  the  trap  which 
they  see  closing  remorselessly  upon  them.  They 
are  followed  in  this  turn  by  the  battleships  of 
the  High  Seas  Fleet  which,  for  more  than  an 
hour,  have  been  faithfully  hammered  by  Evan- 
Thomas's  Queen  Elizabeths,  and  show  up  against 
the  sky  a  very  ragged  outline.  The  range  of 
the  battle  cruisers  is  now  down  to  8,000  yards, 
and  they  get  well  home  upon  battleships  as  well 
as  upon  opponents  of  then*  own  class.  We  do  not 
ourselves  escape  loss,  for  the  Invincible,  which 
has  become  the  leading  ship,  is  shattered  by 
concentrated  gunfire.  The  gallant  Hood,  with  his 
men,  has  gone  to  join  his  great  naval  ancestors. 

And  now  let  us  put  the  clock  back  to  the  hour, 
4.57,  when  the  Queen  Elizabeths  had  completed 
their  turn  to  the  north,  and  had  taken  up  position 
astern  of  Beatty  to  hold  off  the  main  German 
Fleet  while  he  is  making  his  enveloping  rush. 
From  the  spotting  top  of  the  battleship  upon 
which  we  have  descended  we  get  a  most  inspiring 
view,  though  every  now  and  then  we  are  smothered 
in  oily  smoke  from  the  huge  flat  funnels  below 
'us,  and  are  drenched  with  water  which  is  flung 
'up  in  torrents  by  shells  bursting  alongside.  The 
enemy  ships  upon  which  we  are  firing  are  some 
18,000  yards  distant,  we  can  with  great  difficulty 
make  them  out  amid  the  smoke  and  haze,  and  we 
wonder  mightily  how  the  keen-eyed  spotting  officers 
beside  us  can  judge  and  correct,  as  they  appear 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  281 

to  be  doing,  the  bursts  of  our  shells  more  than 
ten  miles  distance.  Our  guns,  and  those  of  our 
consorts,  are  firing  deliberately,  for  we  do  not 
know  how  long  the  battle  will  endure,  and  the 
supply  of  15-inch  shell  and  cordite  cannot  be 
unlimited  in  the  very  biggest  of  ships.  We  learn 
from  the  spotting  officers  that  all  our  ships,  except 
the  Valiant,  have  been  hit  several  times  while 
coming  into  action  by  dropping  shots,  but  that  no 
serious  harm  has  been  done.  Meanwhile  the  shells 
are  falling  fast  about  us,  and  all  of  our  ships  are 
repeatedly  straddled.  The  Warspite  suffered  the 
most  severely,  though  even  she  was  able  to  go 
home  to  the  Forth  under  her  own  steam.  This 
is  the  battleship  whose  steering  gear  went  wrong 
later  in  the  action,  and  which  turned  two  complete 
"O's"  at  full  speed.  Round  she  went  in  great 
circles  of  a  mile  in  diameter,  spitting  shots  with 
every  gun  that  bore  upon  the  enemy  during  her 
wild  gyrations.  Fritz  began  well,  but  does  not 
seem  able  to  stand  punishment.  He  rarely  hits 
us  now,  though  we  are  giving  him  a  much  better 
mark  than  he  presents  to  us.  For  we  are  sil- 
houetted against  the  almost  clear  sky  to  the  west, 
while  he — and  there  are  a  great  many  of  him — is 
buried  in  mist  and  smoke  to  the  east.  Rarely 
can  our  range-finding  officers  take  a  clear  observa- 
tion; rarely  can  our  spotters  make  sure  of  a 
correction.  Yet  every  now  and  then  we  note 
signs  that  our  low-flying,  hard-hitting  shells — each 
one  of  which  weighs  not  much  short  of  a  ton! 
— are  getting  home  upon  him  at  least  as  frequently 
as  his  shots  are  hitting  us.  Three  of  his  battle- 
ships are  new,  built  since  the  war  began,  but  the 
rest  are  just  Konigs  and  Kaisers,  no  better  than 


282  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

our  Dreadnoughts  of  half  a  dozen  years  ago.  We 
would  willingly  take  on  twice  our  numbers  of  such 
battleships  and  fight  them  to  a  finish  upon  a  clear 
summer's  day. 

Our  battle  tactics  are  now  plain  to  see.  They 
are  to  keep  out  to  the  farthest  visible  range,  to 
avoid  being  materially  damaged,  and  to  keep 
Fritz's  battleships  so  fully  occupied  that  they 
will  have  no  opportunity  of  closing  in  upon  Beatty 
when  he  completes  his  envelopment.  We  can  see 
our  battle  cruisers  some  three  miles  away,  swinging 
more  and  more  round  the  head  of  the  German 
line,  and  the  enemy's  battle  cruisers  edging  away 
in  the  effort  to  avoid  being  outflanked.  Far  away 
to  the  north  appears  the  smoke  of  the  three  battle 
cruisers  which  are  speeding  ahead  of  Jellicoe's 
main  Fleet;  they  are  getting  their  instructions 
from  Beatty's  Lion,  and  are  already  making  for 
the  head  of  his  line  so  as  to  prolong  it,  and  so  to 
complete  the  envelopment  which  is  now  our  urgent 
purpose.  Our  Queen  Elizabeth  battleships  are 
not  hurrying  either  their  engines  or  their  guns. 
We  are  moving  just  fast  enough  to  keep  slightly 
ahead  of  the  first  half-dozen  of  the  German  battle- 
ships; we  are  pounding  them  steadily  whenever 
a  decent  mark  is  offered  us — which  unhappily  is 
not  often — and  we  have  seen  one  big  ship  go  down 
smothered  in  smoke  and  flames.  The  time  draws 
on  and  it  is  already  six  o'clock;  we  have  borne 
the  burden  of  the  fight  for  more  than  an  hour, 
though  it  seems  but  a  few  minutes  since  we  turned 
more  than  twenty  miles  back  to  the  south,  and 
first  gave  Fritz  a  taste  of  what  the  Fifth  Battle 
Squadron  could  do.  We  are  slowing  down  now, 
and  the  gap  between  us  and  Beatty  is  widening 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  283 

out,  for  we  know  that  Jellicoe  is  coming,  and 
that  he  will  deploy  his  three  battle  squadrons 
between  us  and  our  battle  cruisers  which,  extended 
in  a  long  line,  with  Hood's  Invincible  in  front,  are 
well  round  the  head  of  the  German  ships.  The 
whole  German  Fleet  is  curving  into  a  long,  close- 
knit  spiral  between  us  and  Beatty,  and,  if  the 
light  will  hold,  we  have  it  ripe  for  destruction. 
We  have  played  our  part;  the  issue  now  rests 
with  Jellicoe  and  the  gods  of  weather. 

Everything  for  which  we  and  the  battle  cruisers 
have  fought  and  suffered,  for  which  we  have 
risked  and  lost  the  Queen  Mary  and  Indefatigable, 
is  drawing  to  its  appointed  end.  Our  Fifth  Battle 
Squadron  has  nearly  stopped,  and  has  inclined 
four  points  towards  the  east,  so  as  to  allow  the 
gap  for  Jellicoe's  deployment  to  widen  out.  Firing 
upon  both  sides  has  ceased.  We  have  great  work 
still  to  do,  and  are  anxious  to  keep  all  the  shells 
we  yet  carry  for  it,  and  the  enemy  is  too  heavily 
battered  and  in  too  grievous  a  peril  to  think  of 
anything  but  his  immediate  escape.  We  are 
waiting  for  Jellicoe,  whose  squadrons  are  already 
beginning  to  deploy. 

While  the  Queen  Elizabeths  wait,  ready  at  any 
moment  to  resume  the  action  whenever  and 
wherever  their  tremendous  services  may  be  called 
for,  we  will  leave  the  Fifth  Battle  Squadron,  and, 
flying  far  over  the  sea,  will  penetrate  into  the 
Holy  of  Holies,  the  conning  tower  of  the  Fleet 
flagship  wherein  stands  the  small,  firm-lipped, 
eager-eyed  man  who  is  the  brain  and  nerve  centre 
of  the  battle.  There  are  those  who  have  as  sharp 
a  thirst  for  battle — Beatty  has;  and  there  are 


284  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

those  who  have  been  as  patient  under  long-drawn- 
out  delays  and  disappointments — Kitchener  was; 
yet  there  have  been  few  fighting  men  in  English 
history  who  could,  as  Jellicoe  can,  combine  endur- 
ing patience  with  the  most  burning  ardour,  and 
never  allow  the  one  to  achieve  mastery  over 
the  other.  Watch  him  now  in  the  conning  tower 
of  the  Iron  Duke.  He  has  waited  and  worked 
during  twenty-two  months  for  just  this  moment, 
when  the  German  High  Seas  Fleet  have  placed 
their  cards  upon  the  table,  and  he,  exactly  at  the 
proper  instant,  will  play  his  overwhelming  trumps. 
If  ever  a  man  had  excuse  for  too  hasty  a  movement, 
for  too  great  an  eagerness  to  snatch  at  victory, 
Jellicoe  would  have  one  now.  His  eyes  flash, 
and  one  may  read  in  them  the  man's  intense 
anxiety  not  to  allow  one  moment  of  unnecessary 
delay  to  interpose  between  his  Fleet  and  the 
scattering  enemy.  Yet  until  the  exact  moment 
arrives  when  he  can  with  sure  hand  deploy  his 
squadrons  into  line  of  battle,  and  fit  them  with 
precision  into  the  gap  made  for  them  between 
Beatty  to  the  east  and  south  and  Evan-Thomas 
to  the  west  and  south,  he  will  not  give  the  order 
which,  once  given,  cannot  be  recalled.  For  as 
soon  as  his  Fleet  has  deployed,  it  will  be  largely 
out  of  his  hands,  its  dispositions  will  have  been 
made,  and  if  it  deploys  too  soon,  the  crushing 
opportunity  will  be  missed,  and  the  Germans  will 
infallibly  escape.  So,  with  his  divisions  well  in 
hand,  he  watches  upon  the  chart  the  movements 
of  his  own  and  Beatty's  vessels,  as  the  wireless 
waves  report  them  to  him,  and  every  few  minutes 
goes  to  the  observation  hoods  of  the  conning  tower, 
and  seeks  to  peer  through  the  thick  haze  and 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  285 

smoke  which  still  hide  from  him  the  enveloping 
horns  of  the  English  ships,  and  the  curving  masses 
of  the  enemy.  If  he  could  see  clearly  his  task 
would  be  less  difficult  and  the  culmination  of  his 
hopes  less  doubtful.  But  he  cannot  see;  he  has 
to  work  by  wireless  and  by  instinct,  largely  by 
faith,  trusting  to  the  judgment  of  Beatty  and 
Evan-Thomas,  far  away,  and  himself  subject  to 
the  ever-varying  uncertainties  of  sea  fighting. 
He  goes  back  to  the  chart,  upon  which  his  staff 
are  noting  down  the  condensed  essence  of  all  the 
messages  as  they  flow  in,  and  then,  the  moment 
having  arrived,  he  gives  the  word.  Away  run  the 
signal  flags,  picked  up  and  interpreted  by  every 
squadron  flagship,  and  then  repeated  by  every 
ship.  The  close  divisions  of  the  Grand  Fleet 
spread  out,  melt  gracefully  into  lines — to  all 
appearance  as  easily  as  if  they  were  battalions  of 
infantry — they  swing  round  to  the  east,  the  fore- 
most vessel  reaching  out  to  join  up  with  Beatty 's 
battle  cruisers.  As  the  Grand  Fleet  deploys, 
Evan-Thomas  swings  in  his  four  Queen  Elizabeths 
so  that  the  Barham,  without  haste  or  hesitation, 
falls  in  behind  the  aftermost  of  Jellicoe's  battle- 
ships, and  the  remainder  of  the  Fifth  Battle 
Squadron  completes  the  line,  which  stretches  now 
in  one  long  curve  to  the  west  and  north  and  east 
of  the  beaten  Germans.  The  deployment  is  com- 
plete, the  whole  Grand  Fleet  has  concentrated, 
the  enemy  is  surrounded  on  three  sides,  we  are 
faster  than  he  is,  and  more  than  twice  as  power- 
ful; if  the  light  will  hold,  his  end  has  come. 
Although  from  the  Iron  Duke  we  cannot  now  see 
the  wide  enveloping  horns,  yet  we  have  lately 
been  with  them  and  know  them.  The  main  Fleet 


286  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

in  whose  centre  we  now  steam,  consists  of  Dread- 
noughts, Orions,  King  George  the  Fifths,  Iron 
Dukes  (all  acting  as  flagships),  Royal  Sovereigns, 
with  15-inch  guns,  the  Canada,  with  14-inch  guns, 
and  that  queer  Dago  ship  the  Agincourt,  with  her 
seven  turrets  all  on  the  middle  line,  and  each 
containing  two  12-inch  guns.  Not  a  ship  in  our 
battle  line  has  been  afloat  for  more  than  seven 
years,  and  most  of  them  are  less  than  three  years 
old.  The  material  newness  of  the  Grand  Fleet  is 
a  most  striking  testimony  to  the  eternal  youth  of 
the  Navy's  ancient  soul. 

We  have  now  concentrated  in  battle  line  the 
battleships  of  our  own  main  Fleet  and  six  battle 
cruisers,  after  allowing  for  our  losses,  and  the 
Germans  have,  after  making  a  similar  allowance, 
not  more  than  fourteen  battleships  and  three  battle 
cruisers.  I  do  not  count  obsolete  pre-Dread- 
noughts.  The  disparity  in  force  is  greater  even 
than  is  shown  by  the  bare  numbers,  which  it  is  not 
permitted  to  give  exactly.  Scarcely  a  ship  of  the 
enemy  can  compare  in  fighting  force  with  the  Queen 
Elizabeths  or  the  Royal  Sovereigns,  or  even  with  the 
Iron  Dukes,  Orions,  and  King  George  the  Fifths. 
Of  course  he  made  off;  he  would  have  been  a  fool  if 
he  had  not — and  Admiral  Scheer  is  far  from  being 
a  fool. 

Our  concentrated  Fleet  came  into  action  at  6.17, 
and  at  this  moment  the  Germans  were  curving  in 
a  spiral  towards  the  south-west,  seeking  a  way  out 
of  the  sea  lion's  jaws.  They  were  greatly  favoured 
by  the  mist  and  were  handled  with  superb  skill. 
They  relied  upon  constant  torpedo  attacks  to  fend 
off  our  battleships,  while  their  own  big  vessels 
worked  themselves  clear.  We  could  never  see 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  287 

more  than  four  or  five  ships  at  a  time  in  their  van, 
or  from  eight  to  ten  in  their  rear.  For  two  hours 
the  English  Fleet,  both  battleships  and  battle 
cruisers,  sought  to  close,  and  now  and  then  would 
get  well  home  upon  the  enemy  at  from  11,000  to 
9,000  yards,  but  again  and  again  under  cover  of 
torpedo  attacks  and  smoke  clouds,  the  Germans 
opened  out  the  range  and  evaded  us.  We  could 
not  get  in  our  heavy  blows  for  long  enough  to  crush 
Scheer,  and  he  could  not  get  in  his  mosquito 
attacks  with  sufficient  success  wholly  to  stave  us 
off.  For  us  those  two  hours  of  hunting  an  elusive 
enemy  amid  smoke  and  fog  banks  were  intensely 
exasperating;  for  him  they  must  have  been  not 
less  intensely  nerve-racking.  All  the  while  we 
were  hunting  him,  he  was  edging  away  to  the 
southwest — "  pur  suing  the  English"  was  his  own 
humorous  description  of  the  manoeuvre — and  both 
Jellicoe  and  Beatty  were  pressing  down  between 
him  and  the  land,  and  endeavouring  to  push  him 
away  from  his  bases.  All  the  while  our  battleships 
and  battle  cruisers  were  firing  heavily  upon  any 
German  ship  which  they  could  see,  damaging  many, 
and  sinking  one  at  least.  The  return  fire  was  so 
ragged  and  ineffective  that  our  vessels  were  scarcely 
touched,  and  only  three  men  were  wounded  in  the 
whole  of  Jellicoe's  main  Fleet.  By  nine  o'clock 
both  Beatty  and  Jellicoe  were  far  down  the  Jutland 
coast,  and  had  turned  towards  the  south-west 
in  the  expectation  that  daylight  would  reveal  to 
them  the  German  Fleet  in  a  favourable  position 
for  ending  the  business. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

THE    BATTLE    OF    THE    GIANTS:      SOME    IMPRESSIONS 
AND   REFLECTIONS 

PART  II 

AT  the  close  of  my  previous  Chapter  I  took  a  mean 
advantage  of  my  readers.  For  I  broke  off  at  the 
most  interesting  and  baffling  phase  in  the  whole 
Battle  of  the  Giants.  It  was  easy  to  write  of  the 
first  two  phases — the  battle-cruiser  action  up  to 
the  turn  where  the  Queen  Mary  and  Indefatigable 
were  lost,  and  the  phase  during  which  Beatty, 
though  sorely  weakened,  gallantly  headed  off  the 
German  line,  and  Evan-Thomas,  with  his  Fifth 
Battle  Squadron,  stalled  off  the  Main  High  Seas 
Fleet  in  order  to  allow  Beatty  the  time  necessary 
for  the  execution  of  his  manoeuvre,  and  Jellicoe  the 
time  to  bring  up  the  Grand  Fleet.  This  second 
phase  of  the  battle  was  perfectly  planned  and 
perfectly  executed.  It  will  always  stand  out  in 
the  pages  of  English  Naval  History  as  a  classical 
example  of  English  battle  tactics.  I  could  have 
described  these  two  phases  with  much  more  of 
intimate  detail  had  the  Censor  permitted,  but 
perhaps  I  gave  enough  to  make  clear  what  was 
sought  to  be  done  and  what  was,  in  fact,  achieved. 
When  Jellicoe  had  deployed  his  potent  squadrons, 
fitting  them  in  between  Evan-Thomas  and  Beatty 

288 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  289 

and  curving  round  the  head  of  the  German  line, 
which  by  then  had  turned  back  upon  itself  and 
taken  the  form  of  a  closely  knit  spiral,  the  Germans 
appeared  to  be  doomed.  They  were  not  enveloped 
in  the  strict  sense  of  being  surrounded — we  were 
twice  as  strong  as  they  were  in  numbers  of  modern 
ships  and  nearly  three  times  as  strong  in  effective 
gun  power,  yet  we  had  not  nearly  sufficient  numbers 
actually  to  surround  them.  A  complete  envelop- 
ment of  an  enemy  fleet  rarely,  if  ever,  occurs  at  sea. 
But  though  Admiral  Scheer  was  not  surrounded 
he  was  in  the  most  imminent  peril  of  destruction. 
Jellicoe  and  Beatty  were  between  his  ships  and  the 
Jutland  Coast,  and  as  they  pressed  towards  the 
south  and  west  were  pushing  him  away  from  the 
Wet  Triangle  and  the  security  of  his  home  bases. 
We  had  him  outmanoeuvred  and  beaten,  but  we 
did  not  destroy  him.  Why  was  that? 

No  question  is  more  difficult  to  answer  fairly  and 
truthfully.  I  have  discussed  this  third  critical 
phase  of  the  battle  with  a  great  many  officers  who 
were  present — and  in  a  position  to  see  what  hap- 
pened— and  with  a  great  many  who,  though  not 
present,  had  means  of  informing  themselves  upon 
essential  details.  I  have  studied  line  by  line 
the  English  and  German  dispatches  and  have 
paid  more  regard  to  what  they  do  not  tell  than  to 
what  they  do  tell.  It  is  stupid  to  reject  Admiral 
Scheer's  dispatch  as  fiction;  it  is  not,  but  it  is 
coloured  with  the  purpose  of  making  the  least  of  his 
tactical  defeat  and  the  most  of  his  very  skilful 
escape.  Jellicoe's  dispatch  is  also  coloured.  I  do 
not  doubt  that  the  statements  contained  in  it  are 
strictly  true,  but  there  are  obvious  omissions. 
By  a  process  of  examination  and  inquiry  I  have 


290  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

arrived  at  an  answer  to  my  question.  I  put  it 
forward  in  all  deference,  for  though  I  am  of  the 
Navy  in  blood  and  spirit,  and  have  studied  it  all 
my  life,  yet  I  am  a  layman  without  sea  training  in 
the  Service. 

The  first  point  essential  to  an  understanding  is 
that  Jellicoe's  deployment  was  not  complete  until 
late  in  the  afternoon,  6.17  p.m.  G.M.T.,  that  the 
evening  was  misty,  and  the  " visibility"  poor. 
Had  the  encounter  between  Beatty's  and  Hipper's 
battle  cruisers  occurred  two  hours  earlier,  and  had 
Jellicoe  come  into  action  at  4.15  instead  of  6.15, 
one  may  feel  confident  that  there  would  not  now 
be  any  High  Seas  German  Fleet,  that  we  could, 
since  May  31st,  1916,  have  maintained  a  close 
blockade  with  fast  light  craft  of  the  German  North 
Sea  and  Baltic  bases,  and  that  the  U-boat  activity, 
which  still  threatens  our  sea  communications  and 
has  had  a  profound  influence  on  the  progress  of  the 
war,  would  never  have  been  allowed  by  us  to 
develop.  Upon  so  little,  two  hours  of  a  day  in  late 
spring,  sometimes  hangs  the  fate  of  nations. 

The  afternoon  was  drawing  towards  evening;  the 
light  was  poor,  the  German  lines  had  curved  away 
seeking  safety  in  flight.  But  there  remained  con- 
fronting us  Hipper's  battle  cruisers  and  Scheer's 
faster  battleships,  supported  by  swarms  of  torpedo 
craft.  We  also  had  our  destroyers,  many  of  them, 
and  light  cruisers.  There  was  one  chance  of  safety 
open  to  Scheer,  and  he  took  it  with  a  judgment 
in  design  and  a  skill  in  execution  which  marks  him 
out  as  a  great  sea  captain.  His  one  chance  was 
so  to  fend  off  and  delay  Jellicoe  and  Beatty  by 
repeated  torpedo  attacks  driven  home,  that  the 
big  English  ships  would  not  be  able  to  close  in 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  291 

upon  the  main  German  Fleet  and  destroy  it  by 
gun-fire  while  light  remained  to  give  a  mark  to  the 
gunners.  And  so  Scheer  decided  to  ''attack,"  and 
did  attack.  In  his  dispatch  he  deliberately  gives 
the  impression — for  the  comfort  and  gratification 
of  German  readers — that  he  successfully  attacked 
our  Grand  Fleet  with  his  main  High  Seas  Fleet. 
He  was  no  fool  of  that  sort.  He  attacked,  but  it 
was  with  torpedo  craft  supported  by  Hipper's 
battle  cruisers. 

The  range  of  a  modern  torpedo,  the  range  at 
which  it  may  occasionally  be  effective,  is  not  far 
short  of  12,000  yards,  about  seven  land  miles. 
This,  when  the  visibility  is  low,  is  about  the  extreme 
effective  range  for  heavy  guns.  The  guns  can  shoot 
much  farther,  twice  as  far,  when  the  gunners  or 
the  fire  directors  up  aloft  can  see;  but  gunnery 
without  proper  light  is  a  highly  wasteful  and  in- 
effective business.  At  the  range — usually  about 
12,000  yards,  though  sometimes  coming  down  to 
9,000  yards — to  which  the  German  torpedo  attacks 
forced  Jellicoe  and  Beatty  to  keep  out,  only  some 
four  or  five  enemy  ships  in  the  van  could  be  seen  at 
once;  more  of  the  rear  squadron  could  be  seen, 
though  never  more  than  eight  or  twelve.  Our 
marks  were  usually  not  the  hulls  of  the  enemy's  ships 
but  the  elusive  flashes  of  his  guns.  Scheer  used  his 
torpedo  craft  hi  exactly  the  same  way  as  a  skilful 
land  General — hi  the  old  days  of  open  fighting — 
used  his  cavalry  during  a  retreat.  He  used  them 
to  cover  by  repeated  charges,  sometimes  of  single 
flotillas,  at  other  times  of  heavily  massed  squadrons, 
the  retirement  of  his  main  forces. 

If,    therefore,    we   combine   the   factor   of   low 
visibility  and  the  approach  of  sunset,  with  the  other 


292  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

factor  of  the  long  range  of  the  modern  torpedo,  we 
begin  to  understand  why  Jellicoe  and  Beatty  were 
not  able  to  close  in  upon  their  enemy  and  wipe  him 
off  the  seas.  From  the  English  point  of  view  the 
third  phase — that  critical  third  phase  to  which  the 
first  and  second  phases  had  led  up  and  which,  under 
favourable  circumstances,  would  have  ended  with 
the  destruction  of  the  German  Fleet — found  us  in 
the  position  of  a  "following"  or  "chasing"  fleet. 
But  from  the  German  point  of  view  the  same  phase 
found  their  fleet  in  the  position  of  "attackers."  I 
have  shown  how  these  points  of  view  can  be  recon- 
ciled, for  while  the  main  German  Fleet  was  intent 
upon  getting  away  and  our  main  fleet  was  intent 
upon  following  it  up  and  engaging  it,  the  German 
battle  cruisers,  supported  by  swarms  of  torpedo 
craft,  were  fighting  a  spirited  rearguard  action  and 
attacking  us  continually.  The  visibility  was  poor 
and  mist  troubled  both  sides.  But  the  escape  of 
the  Germans  was  not  wholly  due  to  the  difficulty  of 
seeing  them  distinctly.  If  we  could  have  closed  in 
we  should  have  seen  his  ships  all  right;  we  did  not 
close  in  because  the  persistence  and  boldness  of  his 
torpedo  attacks  prevented  us. 

The  third  phase,  which  lasted  from  6.17  p.m.  until 
8.20  p.m.,  was  fought  generally  at  about  12,000 
yards,  though  now  and  then  the  range  came  down 
to  9,000  yards.  The  Germans,  fending  us  off 
with  torpedo  onslaughts,  did  their  utmost  to  open 
out  the  ranges  and  used  smoke  screens  to  lessen 
what  visibility  the  atmosphere  permitted.  Their 
gun-fire  was  so  poor  and  ineffective  that  Jellicoe's 
Main  Fleet  was  barely  scratched  and  three  men  only 
were  wounded.  But  we  cannot  escape  from  the 
conclusion  that  Scheer's  rearguard  tactics  were 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  293 

successful,  he  did  fend  Jellicoe  off  and  kept  him  from 
closing,  and  he  did  withdraw  the  bulk  of  his  fleet 
from  the  jaws  which  during  two  hours  were  seeking 
to  close  upon  it.  He  made  two  heavy  destroyer 
attacks,  during  one  of  which  the  battleship  Marl- 
borough  was  hit  but  was  able  to  get  back  to  dock 
under  her  own  steam.  The  third  phase  of  the 
Jutland  Battle  was  exactly  like  a  contest  between 
two  boxers — one  heavy  and  the  other  light — being 
fought  in  an  open  field  without  ropes.  The  little 
man,  continually  side-stepping  and  retreating,  kept 
the  big  man  off;  the  big  man  could  not  close  for 
fear  of  a  sudden  jab  in  his  vital  parts,  and  there 
were  no  corners  to  the  ring  into  which  the  evasive 
light  weight  could  be  driven. 

If  one  applies  this  key  to  the  English  and  German 
descriptions  of  the  third  phase  in  the  Jutland  Battle 
one  becomes  able  to  reconcib  them,  and  becomes 
able  to  Understand  why  the  immensely  relieved 
Germans  claim  their  skilful  escape  as  a  gift  from 
Heaven.  They  do  not  in  their  dispatches  claim 
to  have  defeated  Jellicoe,  except  in  the  restricted 
sense  of  having  foiled  his  purpose  of  compassing 
their  destruction.  They  got  out  of  the  battle  very 
cheaply,  whatever  may  have  been  their  actual  losses. 
This  they  realise  as  plainly  as  we  do.  Relief  shines 
out  of  every  line  of  their  official  story  and  is  com- 
pressed, without  reserve,  into  its  concluding  sen- 
tence. "Whoever  had  the  fortune  to  take  part  in 
the  battle  will  joyfully  recognise  with  a  thankful 
heart  that  the  protection  of  the  Most  High  was 
with  us.  It  is  an  old  historical  truth  that  fortune 
favours  the  brave." 

I  am  afraid  that  I  can  do  little  to  elucidate  the 


294  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

fourth  phase  of  the  Battle  of  the  Giants — the  night 
scrimmage  (one  cannot  call  it  a  battle)  during 
which  our  destroyers  were  seeking  out  the  enemy 
ships  in  the  darkness  and  plugging  holes  into  them 
at  every  opportunity.  And  that  dawn  upon  June 
1st,  of  which  so  much  was  hoped  and  from  which 
nothing  was  realised?  Who  can  describe  that? 
Nothing  that  I  can  write  would  approach  in  sub- 
limity the  German  dispatch.  Consider  what  the 
situation  was.  Jellicoe  and  Beatty  had  worked 
far  down  the  Jutland  coast  and  had  partially  edged 
their  way  between  Scheer  and  the  German  bases. 
Their  destroyers  had  sought  out  the  German  ships, 
found  them  and  loosed  mouldies  at  them,  lost  them 
again  and  found  them  again;  finally  had  lost  them 
altogether.  At  dawn  the  visibility  was  even  lower 
than  during  the  previous  evening — only  three  to 
four  miles — our  destroyers  were  out  of  sight  and 
touch  and  did  not  rejoin  till  9  o'clock.  No  enemy 
was  in  sight,  and  after  cruising  about  until  11  o'clock 
Jellicoe  was  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  Scheer 
had  got  away  round  his  far-stretching  horns  and 
was  even  then  threading  the  mine  fields  which 
protected  his  ports  of  refuge.  There  was  no  more 
to  be  done,  and  the  English  squadrons,  robbed  of 
the  prey  upon  which  they  had  set  their  clutches, 
steamed  off  towards  their  northern  fastnesses. 
There  the  fleet  fuelled  and  replenished  with  ammuni- 
tion, and  9.30  a.m.  on  June  2nd  was  reported 
ready  for  action.  The  German  description  of  that 
dawn  is  a  masterpiece  in  the  art  of  verbal  camou- 
flage: "As  the  sun  rose  upon  the  morning  of  the 
historic  First  of  June  in  the  eastern  sky,  each  one 
of  us  expected  that  the  awakening  sun  would 
illumine  the  British  line  advancing  to  renew  the 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  295 

battle.  This  expectation  was  not  realized.  The 
sea  all  round,  so  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  was 
empty.  One  of  our  airships  which  had  been  sent  up 
reported,  later  in  the  morning,  having  seen  twelve 
ships  of  a  line-of-battle  squadron  coming  from  the 
southern  part  of  the  North  Sea  holding  a  northerly 
course  at  great  speed.  To  the  great  regret  of  all  it 
was  then  too  late  for  our  fleet  to  intercept  and 
attack  them."  The  British  Fleet,  which  the  writer 
regretted  not  to  see  upon  the  dawn  of  a  long  day 
in  late  spring,  was  of  more  than  twice  the  strength 
of  his  own.  It  would  have  had  sixteen  hours  of 
daylight  within  which  to  devour  him;  yet  he 
regretted  its  absence!  The  Germans  must  be  a 
very  simple  people,  abysmally  ignorant  of  the  sea 
if  this  sort  of  guff  stimulates  their  vanity. 


In  war  the  moral  is  far  greater  than  the  material, 
the  psychological  than  the  mechanical.  One  can- 
not begin  to  understand  the  simplest  of  actions 
unless  one  knows  something  of  the  spirit  of  the 
men  who  fight  them.  In  sea  battles,  more  than  in 
contests  upon  land,  events  revolve  round  the 
personalities  of  the  leaders  and  results  depend  upon 
the  skill  with  which  these  leaders  have  gauged  the 
problem  set  them,  and  dispose  their  forces  to  meet 
those  varying  phases  which  lead  up  to  a  conclusion. 
It  is  borne  in  upon  us  by  hard  experience  that  the 
southern  part  of  the  North  Sea  is  not  big  enough 
and  not  deep  enough  to  afford  space  for  a  first-class 
naval  battle  to  be  fought  out  to  the  finish.  The 
enemy  is  too  near  his  home  bases,  he  can  break  off 
an  action  and  get  away  before  being  overwhelmed. 
Yet  even  in  the  southern  North  Sea  there  is  room 


296  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

in  which  to  dispose  great  naval  forces  and  in  which 
to  mano3uvre  them.  Fleets  are  not  tucked  up  by 
space  as  are  modern  armies.  Jutland  was  a  battle  of 
encounter  and  manoeuvre,  not  of  heavy  destructive 
fighting.  There  was  a  dainty  deftness  about  the 
first  two  phases  which  is  eminently  pleasing  to 
our  national  sea  pride,  and  however  we  may  growl 
at  the  tactical  incompleteness  of  the  battle  we 
cannot  but  admit  that,  taken  as  a  whole,  it  was 
as  strategically  decisive  an  action  as  has  ever 
been  fought  by  the  English  Navy  throughout  its 
long  history.  It  re-established  the  old  doctrine, 
whicli  the  Course  of  the  Sea  War  has  tended  to  thrust 
out  of  sight,  that  Command  of  the  Sea  rests  as 
completely  as  it  always  has  done  in  the  past  upon 
the  big  fighting  ships  of  the  main  battle  line.  Upon 
them  everything  else  depends;  the  operations  of 
destroyers  and  light  cruisers,  of  patrols  and  even 
of  submarines.  For  upon  big  ships  depends  the 
security  of  home  bases.  Surface  ships  alone  can 
occupy  the  wide  spaces  of  the  sea  and  can  hold 
securely  the  ports  in  one's  own  country  and  the 
ports  which  are  ravished  from  an  enemy.  Sub- 
marines are  essentially  raiders,  their  office  is  the 
obstruction  of  sea  communications,  but  submarines 
are  useless,  even  for  their  special  work  of  obstruc- 
tion, unless  they  can  retire,  refit,  and  replenish  stores 
at  bases  made  secure  by  the  existence  in  effective 
being  of  a  strong  force  of  big  fighting  ships.  Had 
Jutland  been  as  great  a  tactical  success  as  it  was  a 
strategical  success,  had  it  ended  with  the  wiping  out 
of  the  German  High  Seas  Fleet,  then,  as  I  have 
already  stated,  the  U-boat  menace  would  have  been 
scotched  by  the  destruction  of  the  protecting  screen 
behind  which  the  U-boats  are  built,  refitted,  and 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  297 

replenished.  No  small  part  of  the  German  relief 
at  the  issue  of  Jutland  is  due  to  their  realisation 
of  this  naval  truth.  They  express  that  realisation 
in  a  sentence  which  contains  the  whole  doctrine  of 
the  efficacy  of  the  big  ship  as  the  final  determinant 
in  naval  warfare.  Admiral  Scheer  in  his  dispatch 
declared  that  the  Battle  of  May  31st,  1916,  "  con- 
firmed the  old  truth  that  the  large  fighting  ship, 
the  ship  which  combines  the  maximum  of  strength 
in  attack  and  defence,  rules  the  seas."  They  do 
not  claim  that  the  English  superiority  in  strength — 
which  they  place  at  "roughly  two  to  one" — was 
sensibly  reduced  by  our  losses  in  the  battle,  nor 
that  the  large  English  fighting  ships — admittedly 
larger,  more  numerous,  and  more  powerfully  gunned 
than  their  own — ceased  after  Jutland  to  rule  the 
seas.  The  German  claim,  critically  considered, 
is  simply  that  in  the  circumstances  it  was  a  very 
lucky  escape  for  the  German  ships.  And  so  indeed 
it  was.  It  left  them  with  the  means  of  securing 
their  bases  from  which  could  be  carried  on  the 
U-boat  warfare  against  our  mercantile  communica- 
tions at  sea. 

When  the  day  arrives  for  the  veil  which  at  present 
enshrouds  naval  operations  to  be  lifted,  and  details 
can  be  discussed  freely  and  frankly,  a  whole  litera- 
ture will  grow  up  around  the  Battle  of  the  Giants. 
Strategically,  I  repeat— even  at  the  risk  of  becoming 
tedious — it  was  a  great  success,  both  in  its  inception 
and  hi  its  practical  results.  Tactically  its  success 
was  not  complete.  The  Falkland  Islands  and 
Coronel  actions  were  by  comparison  simple  affairs 
of  which  all  essential  details  are  known.  Jutland, 
from  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  May  31st  until 
dawn  upon  June  1st,  when  the  opposing  fleets  had 


298  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

completely  lost  touch,  the  one  with  the  other,  is  a 
puzzling  confusing  business  which  will  take  years 
cf  discussion  and  of  elucidation  wholly  to  resolve — 
if  ever  it  be  fully  resolved.  If  any  one  be  per- 
mitted to  describe  the  three  actions  in  a  few  words 
apiece  one  would  say  that  Coronel  was  both  strate- 
gically and  tactically  a  brilliant  success  for  the 
Germans.  Von  Spec  concentrated  his  squadron 
outside  the  range  of  our  observation,  placed  himself 
hi  a  position  of  overwhelming  tactical  advantage, 
and  won  a  shattering  victory.  At  the  Falkland 
Islands  action  we  did  to  Von  Spee  exactly  what  he 
had  done  to  us  at  Coronel.  This  time  it  was  the 
English  concentration  which  was  effected  outside 
the  German  observation,  and  it  was  the  German 
squadron  which  was  wiped  out  when  the  tactical 
clash  came.  The  first  two  phases  of  Jutland  were, 
in  spite  of  our  serious  losses  in  ships,  notable  tactical 
successes;  they  ended  with  Beatty  round  the  head 
of  the  German  Fleet  and  Jellicoe  deployed  in  mas- 
terly fashion  between  Beatty  and  Evan-Thomas. 
Then  we  get  the  exasperating  third  phase,  in  which 
the  honours  of  skilful  evasion  rest  with  the  Germans, 
and  the  fourth  or  night  phase,  during  which  con- 
fusion became  worse  confounded  until  all  touch  was 
lost.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  the  tactical  failure  of  the 
third  and  fourth  phases,  the  battle  as  a  whole  was  so 
great  a  success  that  it  left  us  with  an  unchallenge- 
able command  of  the  sea — a  more  complete  com- 
mand than  even  after  Trafalgar.  The  Germans 
learned  that  they  could  not  fight  us  in  the  open  with 
the  smallest  hope  of  success.  One  of  the  direct  fruits 
of  Jutland  was  the  intensified  U-boat  warfare  against 
merchant  shipping.  The  Germans  had  learned  in 
the  early  part  of  the  war  that  they  could  not  wear 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  299 

down  our  battleship  strength  by  under-water 
attacks;  they  learned  at  Jutland  that  they  could 
not  place  their  battleships  in  line  against  ours  and 
hope  to  survive;  nothing  was  left  to  them  except 
to  prey  upon  our  lines  of  sea  communication.  And 
being  a  people  in  whose  eyes  everything  is  fan*  in  war 
— their  national  industry — they  proceeded  to  malro 
the  utmost  of  the  form  of  attack  which  remained 
to  them.  Viewed,  therefore,  in  its  influence  upon 
the  progress  of  the  war,  the  Battle  of  Jutland  was 
among  the  most  momentous  in  our  long  sea  history. 
I  have  discussed  the  Battle  of  the  Giants  so  often, 
and  so  remorselessly,  with  many  officers  who  were 
present  and  many  others  who  though  not  present 
were  hi  a  position  to  know  much  which  is  hidden 
from  onlookers,  that  I  fear  lest  I  may  have  worn 
out  their  beautiful  patience.  There  are  two  out- 
standing figures,  Beatty  and  Jellicoe,  about  whose 
personalities  all  discussion  of  Jutland  must  revolve. 
They  are  men  of  very  different  types.  Beatty  is 
essentially  a  fighter;  Jellicoe  is  essentially  a  student. 
In  power  of  intellect  and  in  knowledge  of  his  pro- 
fession Jellicoe  is  a  dozen  planes  above  Beatty. 
And  yet  when  it  comes  to  fighting,  in  small  things 
and  in  great,  Beatty  has  an  instinct  for  the  right 
stroke  at  the  right  moment,  which  in  war  is  beyond 
price.  Whether  in  peace  or  in  war,  Jellicoe  would 
always  be  conspicuous  among  contemporaries; 
Beatty,  unless  war  has  given  him  the  stage  upon 
which  to  develop  his  flair  for  battle,  would  not  have 
stood  out.  He  got  early  chances,  in  the  Soudan 
and  in  China;  he  seized  them  both  and  rushed  up 
the  ladder  of  promotion.  He  was  promoted  so 
quickly  that  he  outstripped  his  technical  education. 
As  a  naval  strategist  and  tactician  Jellicoe  is  the 


300  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

first  man  in  his  profession;  Beatty  is  by  professional 
training  neither  a  strategist  nor  a  tactician — he  was 
a  commander  at  twenty-seven  and  a  captain  at 
twenty-nine — but  give  him  a  fighting  problem  to  be 
solved  out  in  the  open  with  the  guns  firing,  and  he 
will  solve  it  by  sheer  instinctive  genius.  In  the 
Battle  of  Jutland  both  Beatty  and  Jellicoe  played 
their  parts  with  consummate  skill;  Beatty  was  in 
the  limelight  all  through,  while  Jellicoe  was  off  the 
stage  during  the  first  two  acts.  Yet  Jellicoe's  part 
was  incomparably  the  more  difficult,  for  upon 
him,  though  absent,  the  whole  issue  of  the  battle 
depended.  His  deployment  by  judgment  and 
instinct — sight  was  withheld  from  him  by  the 
weather — was  perfect  in  its  timing  and  precision. 
He  should  have  been  crowned  with  the  bays  of  a 
complete  Victor,  but  the  Fates  were  unkind.  He 
was  robbed  of  his  prey  when  it  was  almost  within 
his  jaws.  Do  not  be  so  blind  and  foolish  as  to 
depreciate  the  splendid  skill  and  services  of  Lord 
Jellicoe. 


I  find  the  writing  of  this  second  Chapter  upon  the 
Battle  of  the  Giants  a  very  difficult  job.  Twice  I 
have  tried  and  failed ;  this  is  the  result  of  the  third 
effort.  My  failures  have  been  used  to  light  the 
fires  of  my  house.  Even  now  I  am  deeply  conscious 
of  the  inadequacy  of  my  tentative  reflections. 
Upon  so  many  points  one  has  not  the  data;  upon 
so  many  others  one  is  not  allowed — no  doubt 
properly — yet  still  not  allowed  to  say  what  one 
knows.  Though  sometimes  I  write  grave  articles, 
many  of  my  readers  know  that  by  instinct  I  am  a 
story-teller,  and  to  me  narrative  by  dialogue  comes 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  301 

more  readily  than  a  disquisition.  Therefore,  if  you 
will  permit  me,  I  will  cast  the  remaining  portion 
of  this  chapter  into  the  form  of  dialogue  and  make 
of  it  a  discussion  between  two  Admirals,  a  Captain, 
and  myself.  One  of  these  Admirals  I  will  call  a 
Salt  Horse,  a  man  who  has  seen  service  during  half 
a  century  but  who  has  not  specialised  in  a  technical 
branch  such  as  gunnery,  or  navigation,  or  tor- 
pedoes. A  Salt  Horse  is  an  all-round  sailor.  The 
other  Admiral  I  will  call  a  Maker,  and  regard  him 
as  a  highly  competent  technical  officer  in  the  design 
and  construction  of  ships  of  war,  of  their  guns,  and 
of  their  armour.  The  Captain,  a  younger  man,  I 
will  call  a  Gunner,  one  who  has  specialised  in  naval 
gunnery  in  all  its  branches,  and  one  who  knows 
the  old  methods  and  those  which  now  are  new  and 
secret.  These  officers  have  not  been  drawn  by 
me  from  among  my  own  friends.  They  are  not 
individuals  but  are  types.  Any  attempts  which 
may  be  made  at  identifying  them  will  fail  and  justly 
fail — for  they  do  not  exist  as  individuals.  Let  this 
be  clearly  understood.  They  are  creations  of  my 
own;  I  use  them  to  give  a  sense  of  vividness  to 
a  narrative  which  tends  to  become  tedious,  and 
to  bring  out  features  in  the  Battle  of  Jutland 
which  cannot  without  impertinence  be  presented 
directly  by  one,  like  myself,  who  is  not  himself  a 
naval  officer. 

Bennet  Copplestone,  an  intrusive  and  persistent 
fellow,  begins  the  conference  by  inquiring  whether 
Beatty  had,  in  the  professional  judgment  of  his 
brother  officers,  deserved  Admiral  Jellicoe's  praise 
of  his  "fine  qualities  of  gallant  leadership,  firm 
determination,  and  correct  strategic  insight."  Was 
he  as  good  as  his  public  reputation?  I  knew,  I  said, 


302  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

a  good  deal  too  much  of  the  making  of  newspaper 
reputations  and  had  come  to  distrust  them. 

"Beatty  is  a  real  good  man,"  declared  the  Maker. 
"He  sticks  his  cap  on  one  side  and  loves  to  be 
photographed  looking  like  a  Western  American 
'tough.'  But  under  all  this  he  conceals  a  fine 
naval  head  and  the  sturdiest  of  hearts.  He  is  a 
first-class  leader  of  men.  I  had  my  own  private 
doubts  of  him  until  this  Jutland  Battle,  but  now 
I  will  take  off  my  hat  in  his  presence  though  he  is 
my  junior." 

The  Maker's  colleagues  nodded  approval. 

"There  was  nothing  much  in  the  first  part," 
went  on  the  Maker.  "Any  of  us  could  have  done 
it.  His  pursuit  of  the  German  battle  cruisers  up  to 
their  junction  with  the  High  Seas  Fleet  was  a 
reconnaissance  in  force,  which  he  was  able  to  carry 
through  without  undue  risk,  because  he  had  behind 
him  the  Fifth  Battle  Squadron.  His  change  of 
course  then  through  sixteen  points  was  the  only 
possible  manoeuvre  in  order  to  bring  his  fleet  back 
towards  Jellicoe  and  to  lead  the  Germans  into  the 
trap  prepared  for  them.  So  far  Beatty  had  done 
nothing  to  distinguish  him  from  any  competent 
fleet  leader.  Where  he  showed  greatness  was  in 
not  diverging  by  a  hair's  breadth  from  his  plans 
after  the  loss  of  the  Indefatigable  and  the  Queen 
Mary.  Mind  you,  these  losses  were  wholly  un- 
expected, and  staggering  in  their  suddenness. 
He  had  lost  these  fine  ships  while  fighting  battle 
cruisers  fewer  in  numbers  and  less  powerful  in  guns 
than  his  own  squadrons.  A  weaker  man  might 
have  been  shaken  in  nerve  and  lost  confidence  in 
himself  and  his  ships.  But  Beatty  did  not  hesitate. 
Although  he  was  reduced  in  strength  from  six  battle 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  303 

cruisers  to  four  only  he  dashed  away  to  head  off 
the  Germans  as  serenely  as  if  he  had  suffered  no 
losses  at  all.  And  his  splendid  dash  had  nothing 
in  it  of  recklessness.  All  the  while  he  was  heading 
off  the  Germans  he  was  manoeuvring  to  give  himself 
the  advantage  of  light  and  to  avoid  the  dropping 
shots  which  had  killed  his  lost  cruisers.  All  the 
while  he  kept  between  the  Germans  and  Jellicoe 
and  within  touch  of  his  supporting  squadron  of 
four  Queen  Elizabeths.  Had  he  lost  more  ships 
he  could  at  any  moment  have  broken  off  the  action 
and,  sheltered  by  the  massive  Fifth  B.S.,  have 
saved  what  remained.  As  a  mixture  of  dash  and 
caution  I  regard  his  envelopment  of  the  German 
line,  after  losing  the  Queen  Mary  and  Indefatigable, 
as  a  superb  exhibition  of  sound  battle  tactics  and 
of  sublime  confidence  hi  himself  and  his  men.  But 
I  wish  that  he  would  not  wear  his  cap  on  one  side 
or  talk  so  much.  He  has  modified  both  these 
ill-practices  since  he  became  Commander-in-Chief. 
That  is  one  comfort." 

" Nelson  was  a  poseur,"  said  I,  "and  as  theatrical 
as  an  elderly  and  ugly  prima  donna.  He  posed  to 
the  gallery  in  every  action,  and  died,  as  it  were, 
to  the  accompaniment  of  slow  music.  It  was  an 
amiable  weakness." 

"Jellicoe  doesn't  pose,"  growled  the  Maker. 

"Jellicoe  hates  advertisement,"  I  observed. 
"Whenever  he  used  to  talk  to  the  gangs  of  news- 
paper men  who  infested  the  Grand  Fleet,  he  always 
implored  them  to  spare  his  own  shrinking  person- 
ality. It  is  a  matter  of  temperament.  Jellicoe 
is  a  genuinely  modest  man;  Beatty  is  a  vain  one. 
They  form  a  most  interesting  contrast.  Life  would 
be  duller  without  such  contrasts.  One  could  give 


304  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

a  score  of  examples  from  military  and  naval  history 
of  high  merit  allied  both  to  modesty  and  vanity." 

"That  is  true,"  said  the  Maker,  "but  the  Great 
Silent  Sea  Service  loathes  advertisement  like  the 
very  devil,  and  it  is  right.  The  Service  would  be 
ruined  if  senior  officers  tried  to  bid  against  one 
another  for  newspaper  puffs." 

"Yet  I  have  known  them  do  it,"  said  I  drily,  and 
then  slid  away  from  the  delicate  topic.  "Let  us 
return  to  the  first  part  of  the  action,  and  examine 
the  division  of  the  Fleet  between  Jellicoe  and 
Beatty.  Was  this  division,  admittedly  hazardous, 
a  sound  method  of  bringing  the  Germans  to 
action?" 

The  Gunner  took  upon  himself  to  reply. 

"It  is  not,  and  never  has  been,  possible  to  bring 
the  Germans  to  action  in  the  southern  part  of  the 
North  Sea  except  with  their  own  consent.  There 
is  no  room.  They  can  always  break  off  and  retire 
within  their  protected  waters.  Steam  fleets  of  the 
modern  size  and  speed  cannot  force  an  action  and 
compel  it  to  be  fought  out  to  a  finish  hi  a  smaller 
space  than  a  real  ocean.  You  must  always  think 
of  this  when  criticising  the  division  of  our  fleets. 
Beatty  was  separated  from  Jellicoe  by  nearly  sixty 
miles,  and  strengthened  by  four  fast  Queen  Eliza- 
beth battleships  to  enable  him  to  fight  an  action 
with  a  superior  German  Fleet.  He  was  made 
just  strong  enough  to  fight  and  not  too  strong  to 
scare  the  Germans  away.  In  theory,  the  division 
of  our  forces  within  striking  distance  of  the  enemy 
was  all  wrong;  in  practice,  it  was  the  only  way  of 
persuading  him  into  an  action.  Both  sides  at  the 
end  of  May,  1916,  wanted  to  bring  off  a  fight  at  sea. 
Fritz  wanted  something  which  he  could  claim  as  a 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  305 

success  in  order  to  cheer  up  his  blockaded  grumblers 
at  home,  who  were  getting  restive.  We  wanted  to 
stop  the  projected  German  naval  and  military 
onslaught  upon  Russia  hi  the  Baltic.  The  wonder- 
ful thing  about  the  Jutland  Battle  is  that  it  appears 
to  have  achieved  both  objects.  Fritz,  by  sinking 
three  of  our  battle  cruisers,  has  been  able  to  delude 
a  nation  of  landsmen  into  accepting  a  highly 
coloured  version  of  a  great  naval  success;  and  we, 
by  making  a  sorry  mess  of  his  main  fleet,  did  hi  fact 
clear  the  northern  Russian  flank  of  a  grave  peril. 
The  later  Russian  successes  in  the  South  were  the 
direct  result  of  Jutland,  and  without  those  successes 
the  subsequent  Italian,  French,  and  British  ad- 
vances could  not  have  been  pushed  with  anything 
like  the  effect  secured.  Regarded  in  this  broad 
international  way,  the  division  of  our  fleets  justified 
by  its  results  the  risks  which  it  involved.  What  I 
don't  understand  is  why  we  suffered  so  much  in 
the  first  part  of  the  action  when  Beatty  had  six 
battle  cruisers  and  four  battleships  against  five 
battle  cruisers  of  the  enemy.  He  lost  the  Indefati- 
gable and  Queen  Mary  while  he  was  in  great  superior- 
ity both  of  numbers  and  of  guns.  Then,  when  the 
German  main  fleet  had  come  in,  and  he  was  carry- 
ing out  an  infinitely  more  hazardous  operation  hi 
the  face  of  a  greater  superior  force,  he  lost  nothing. 
If  the  Indefatigable  and  Queen  Mary  had  been  lost 
during  the  second  hour  before  Jellicoe  arrived  I 
should  have  felt  no  surprise — we  were  then  deliber- 
ately risking  big  losses — but  during  the  first  hour 
of  fighting,  when  we  had  ten  ships  against  five — 
and  five  much  weaker  individually  than  our  ten — 
we  lost  two  fine  battle  cruisers.  I  confess  that  I 
am  beaten.  It  almost  looks  as  if  at  the  beginning 


306  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

the  German  gunners  were  better  than  ours,  but  that 
they  went  to  pieces  later.  What  do  you  think?" 
He  turned  to  the  Salt  Horse,  who  spoke  little,  but 
very  forcibly  when  he  could  be  persuaded  to  open 
his  lips. 

"Everyone  with  Beatty,  to  whom  I  have  spoken," 
declared  the  Salt  Horse,  "agrees  that  the  German 
gunnery  was  excellent  at  the  beginning.  We  were 
straddled  immediately  and  hit  again  and  again 
while  coming  into  action.  Our  gunners  must  have 
been  a  bit  over-anxious  until  they  settled  down. 
We  ought  to  have  done  something  solid  in  a  whole 
hour  against  five  battle  cruisers  with  our  thirty- 
two  13.5-inch  guns  and  thirty-two  15-inch.  And 
yet  no  one  claims  more  than  one  enemy  ship  on  fire. 
That  means  nothing.  The  burning  gas  from  one 
big  shell  will  make  the  deuce  of  a  blaze.  There  is 
no  explanation  of  our  losses  in  the  first  part,  and 
of  Fritz's  comparative  immunity,  except  the  one 
which  you,  my  dear  Gunner,  are  very  unwilling  to 
accept.  Fritz  hit  us  much  more  often  than  we  hit 
him.  There  you  have  it.  I  have  spoken."  Admiral 
Salt  Horse,  a  most  abstemious  man,  rang  the  bell 
of  the  club  of  which  we  were  members,  and  ordered 
a  whisky  and  soda.  "Just  to  take  the  taste  of  that 
admission  out  of  my  mouth,"  he  explained. 

The  Maker  of  Ships  and  Guns  smiled  ruefully. 
"I  have  reckoned,"  said  he,  "that  the  Cats  fired 
twenty  rounds  per  gun  during  the  first  hour  and 
the  Queen  Elizabeths  ten.  That  makes  640  rounds 
of  13.5-inch  shell  and  320  rounds  of  15-inch.  Three 
per  cent,  of  fair  hits  at  the  ranges,  and  in  the  condi- 
tions of  light,  would  have  been  quite  good.  But 
did  we  score  twenty-eight  hits  of  big  shell,  or  any- 
thing like  it?  If  we  had  there  would  have  been 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  307 

much  more  damage  done  than  one  battle  cruiser 
on  fire.  The  Salt  Horse  has  spoken,  and  so  have  I. 
I  also  will  wash  the  taste  of  it  out  of  my  mouth." 

''You  will  admit,"  muttered  the  Gunner,  "that 
in  the  second  part,  after  Beatty  and  the  Queen 
Elizabeths  had  turned,  our  control  officers  and  long- 
service  gunners  came  into  their  own?" 

"Willingly,"  cried  Admiral  Salt  Horse.  "Nothing 
could  have  been  finer  than  the  hammering  which 
Evan-Thomas  gave  to  the  whole  High  Seas  Fleet. 
And  Beatty  crumpled  up  his  opposite  numbers 
in  first-class  style.  Our  individual  system,  then, 
justified  itself  utterly.  Fritz's  mechanical  control 
went  to  bits  when  the  shells  began  to  burst  about  his 
fat  ears,  but  it  was  painfully  good  while  it  lasted. 
Give  Fritz  his  due,  Master  Gunner,  it's  no  use 
shutting  our  eyes  to  his  merits." 

I  had  listened  with  the  keenest  interest  to  this 
interchange,  for  though  I  should  not  myself  have 
ventured  to  comment  upon  so  technical  a  subject  as 
naval  gunnery,  I  had  subconsciously  felt  what  the 
old  Salt  Horse  had  so  bluntly  and  almost  brutally 
expressed. 

"We  have  arrived,  then,  at  this,"  observed  I, 
slowly,  "that  during  the  first  hour,  up  to  the  turn 
when  the  main  High  Seas  Fleet  joined  up  with 
Hipper's  battle  cruisers,  our  squadrons  got  the 
worst  of  it,  though  they  were  of  twice  Fritz's  num- 
bers and  of  far  more  than  twice  his  strength.  It  is  a 
beastly  thing  for  an  Englishman  to  say,  but  really 
you  leave  me  no  choice.  Though  I  hate  whisky, 
I  must  follow  the  example  set  by  my  betters." 

The  Master  Gunner  laughed.  "In  the  Service," 
said  he,  "we  learn  from  our  mistakes.  At  the 
beginning  we  did  badly  on  May  31st,  but  after- 


308  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

wards  we  profited  by  the  lesson.  What  more  could 
you  ask?  .  .  .  Civilians,"  said  he,  aside  to  his 
colleagues,  "seem  to  think  that  only  English  ships 
should  be  allowed  to  have  guns  or  to  learn  how 
to  use  them." 

"Now  we  have  given  Fritz  his  due,"  said  I, 
"let  us  get  on  to  the  second  part  of  the  battle, 
Act  Two  of  the  naval  drama.  You  will  agree  that 
the  handling  of  our  damaged  squadrons  by  Beatty 
and  Evan-Thomas  was  magnificent,  and  that  the 
execution  done  by  us  was  fully  up  to  the  best 
English  standards?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  the  grim  Salt  Horse,  to  whom 
I  had  specially  appealed.  "We  will  allow  both. 
Beatty 's  combination  of  .dash  and  caution  was 
beyond  praise  and  the  gunnery  was  excellent." 

"None  of  our  ships  were  sunk,  none  were  seriously 
hit,"  put  in  the  Gunner.  "On  the  other  hand  we 
certainly  sank  one  German  battle  cruiser  and  one 
battleship,  and  very  heavily  damaged  others.  I 
don't  know  how  many.  I  think  that  we  must 
accept  as  proved  that  not  many  German  ships  of 
the  battle  line  were  sunk  in  any  part  of  the  action. 
When  badly  hit  they  fell  out  and  retired  towards 
home,  which  they  could  always  do.  During  the 
Becond  part  both  fleets  were  steaming  away  from 
the  German  bases,  so  that  a  damaged  enemy  ship 
had  only  to  stop  to  be  left  behind  in  safety.  A 
good  many  ships  were  claimed  by  our  officers  as 
sunk  when  they  were  known  to  have  been  damaged 
and  had  disappeared;  but  I  feel  sure  that  most  of 
them  had  fallen  out,  not  been  sunk." 

"The  outstanding  feature,"  cried  the  Maker  of 
Guns,  "was  the  superiority  of  our  gunnery.  We 
have  always  encouraged  individuality  in  gun  laying, 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  309 

and  have  never  allowed  Fire  Control  to  supersede 
the  eyes  and  hands  of  the  skilled  gun-layers  in  the 
turrets.  Control  and  individual  laying  are  with  us 
complementary,  not  mutually  exclusive.  With  the 
Germans  an  intensely  mechanical  control  is  of 
the  essence  of  their  system.  They  are  very  good 
up  to  a  point,  but  have  not  elasticity  enough  to 
deal  with  the  perpetual  variations  of  range  and 
direction  when  fighting  ships  are  moving  fast  and 
receiving  heavy  punishment.  Fritz  beat  us  in  the 
first  part,  but  we,  as  emphatically,  beat  him  in 
the  second." 

We  then  passed  to  a  technical  discussion  upon 
naval  gunnery,  which  cannot  be  given  here  in  detail. 
I  developed  my  thesis,  aggravating  to  expert  gun- 
ners, that  when  one  passes  from  the  one  dimension — 
distance — of  land  shooting  from  a  fixed  gun  at  a 
fixed  object,  to  the  two  dimensions — distance  and 
direction — of  moving  guns  on  board  ship  firing 
at  moving  objects,  the  drop  in  accuracy  is  so  enor- 
mous as  to  make  ship  gunnery  frightfully  ineffective 
and  wasteful.  I  readily  admitted  that  when  one 
passed  still  further  to  three  dimensions — distance, 
direction,  and  height — and  essayed  air  gunnery, 
the  wastefulness  and  ineffectiveness  of  shooting 
at  sea  were  multiplied  an  hundredfold.  But,  as  I 
pointed  out,  we  were  not  at  the  moment  discussing 
anti-aircraft  gunnery,  but  the  shooting  of  naval 
guns  at  sea  in  the  Jutland  Battle. 

Of  course  I  brought  down  a  storm  upon  my 
head.  But  my  main  thesis  was  not  contested.  It 
was,  however,  pointed  out  that  I  had  not  allowed 
sufficient  weight  to  the  inherent  difficulties  of 
shooting  from  a  moving  ship  at  a  moving  ship  ten 
or  a  dozen  miles  away,  and  that  instead  of  calling 


310  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

naval  gunnery  "wasteful  and  ineffective"  I  Ought 
to  be  dumb  with  wonder  that  hits  were  ever  brought 
off  at  all.  I  enjoyed  myself  thoroughly. 

"Don't  be  hard  on  the  poor  man/'  at  last  inter- 
posed the  kindly  Salt  Horse.  "He  means  well 
and  can  be  useful  to  the  Service  sometimes  though 
he  has  not  had  a  naval  training  The  truth  is," 
he  went  on  confidentially,  "we  feel  rather  wild 
about  the  small  damage  that  we  did  to  Fritz  on 
May  31st:  small,  that  is,  in  comparison  with  our 
opportunities.  Our  gunnery  officers  and  gun-layers 
are  the  best  hi  the  world,  our  guns,  range-finders 
and  other  instruments  are  unapproachable  for 
precision,  our  system  of  fire  direction  is  the  best 
that  naval  brains  can  devise  and  is  constantly  being 
improved,  and  yet  all  through  the  war  the  result 
in  effective  hits  has  been  most  disappointing— 
don't  interrupt,  you  people,  I  am  speaking  the 
truth  for  once.  Fritz's  shooting,  except  occasion- 
ally, has  been  even  worse  than  ours,  which  indicates, 
I  think,  that  the  real  inner  problems  of  naval  gun- 
nery are  not  yet  in  sight  of  solution.  You  see,  it  is 
quite  a  new  science.  In  the  old  days  one  usually  fired 
point  blank  just  as  one  might  plug  at  a  haystack, 
and  the  extreme  range  was  not  more  than  a  mile 
and  a  half;  but  now  that  every  fighting  ship  carries 
torpedo  tubes  we  must  keep  out  a  very  long  way. 
I  admit  the  apparent  absurdity  of  the  situation. 
Here  on  May  31st,  two  fleets  were  engaged  off  and 
on  for  six  hours — most  of  the  time  more  off  than  on 
— and  the  bag  for  Fritz  was  three  big  ships,  and  for 
us  possibly  four,  by  gun-fire.  The  torpedo  practice 
was  no  better  except  when  our  destroyers  got  hi 
really  close.  During  all  the  third  part  of  the  action, 
when  Scheer  was  fending  us  off  with  torpedo 


311 

attacks  he  hit  only  one  battleship,  the  Marlborough, 
and  she  was  able  to  continue  in  action  afterwards 
and  to  go  home  under  her  own  steam.  Yet  upon 
a  measured  range  at  a  fixed  mark  a  torpedo  is  good 
up  to  11,000  yards,  nearly  six  miles.  In  action, 
against  moving  ships,  one  cannot  depend  upon  a 
mouldy  hitting  at  over  500  yards,  a  quarter  of  a 
mile.  If  gunnery  is  wasteful  and  inefficient,  what 
about  torpedo  practice  in  battle?  " 

"What  is  the  solution?"  I  asked,  greatly 
interested. 

"Don't  ask  me!"  replied  the  Salt  Horse.  "I 
knew  something  of  gunnery  once,  but  now  I'm  on 
the  shelf.  I  myself  would  risk  the  mouldies  a(nd 
fight  at  close  quarters — we  have  the  legs  of  Fritz 
and  could  choose  our  own  range — but  in-fighting 
means  tremendous  risks,  and  the  dear  stupid  old 
public  would  howl  for  my  head  if  the  corresponding 
losses  followed.  The  tendency  at  present  is  to- 
wards longer  and  longer  ranges,  up  to  the  extreme 
visible  limits,  and  the  longer  the  range  the  greater 
the  waste  and  inefficiency.  Ask  the  Gunner  there, 
he  is  more  up-to-date  than  I  am." 

The  Master  Gunner  growled.  He  had  listened  to 
Admiral  Salt  Horse's  homily  with  the  gravest  dis- 
approval. He  was  a  simple  loyal  soul;  any 
criticism  which  seemed  to  question  the  supreme 
competence  of  his  beloved  Service  was  to  him  rank 
treachery.  Yet  he  knew  that  the  Salt  Horse  was 
as  loyal  a  seaman  as  he  was  himself.  It  was  not 
what  was  said  which  caused  his  troubled  feelings — 
he  would  talk  as  freely  himself  before  his  colleagues 
— but  that  such  things  should  be  poured  into  the 
ears  of  a  civilian!  It  was  horrible! 

"  After  the  first  hour,    when  our  gunners  had 


312  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

settled  down,"  said  he  gruffly,  "their  practice  was 
exceedingly  good.  They  hit  when  they  could  see, 
which  was  seldom.  If  the  light  had  been  even 
tolerable  no  German  ship  would  have  got  back  to 
port." 

"I  agree,"  cried  the  Maker  of  Guns  and  Ships. 
"We  did  as  well  as  the  light  allowed.  Fritz  was 
all  to  pieces.  The  bad  torpedo  practice  was  Fritz's, 
not  ours.  The  worst  of  the  gunnery  was  his,  too. 
We  have  lots  to  learn  still — as  you  rightly  say,  naval 
gunnery  is  still  in  its  infancy — but  we  have  learned 
a  lot  more  than  anyone  else  has.  That  is  the  one 
thing  which  matters  to  me." 

"Have  we  not  reached  another  conclusion,"  I 
put  in,  diffidently,  "namely,  that  big-ship  actions 
must  be  indecisive  unless  the  light  be  good  and  the 
sea  space  wide  enough  to  allow  of  a  fight  to  a 
finish?  We  can't  bring  Fritz  to  a  final  action  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  North  Sea  unless  we  can  cut  him 
off  entirely  from  his  avenues  of  escape.  In  the 
Atlantic,  a  thousand  miles  from  land,  we  could 
destroy  him  to  the  last  ship — if  our  magazines  held 
enough  of  shell — but  as  he  can  choose  the  battle 
ground,  and  will  not  fight  except  near  to  his  bases, 
we  can  shatter  him  and  drive  him  helpless  into  port, 
but  we  cannot  wipe  him  off  the  seas.  Is  that 
proved? " 

'Yes,"  said  the  Gunner,  who  had  recovered  his 
usual  serenity.  "In  my  opinion  that  is  proved 
absolutely." 

"One  talks  rather  loosely  of  envelopment," 
explained  the  Maker,  "as  if  it  were  total  instead 
of  partial.  The  German  Fleet  was  never  enveloped 
or  anything  like  it.  What  happened  was  this: 
As  the  Germans  curved  away  in  a  spiral  to  the 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  313 

south-west  our  line  curved  in  with  them,  roughly 
parallel,  also  to  the  south-west,  keeping  always 
between  Fritz  and  the  land.  We  were  partly 
between  him  and  his  bases,  but  he  could  and  did 
escape  by  getting  round  the  horn  which  threatened 
to  cut  him  off." 

"Could  not  Jellicoe,"  I  asked,  "have  worked 
right  round  so  as  to  draw  a  line  across  the  mouths 
of  the  Elbe  and  Weser,  and  to  cut  Scheer  com- 
pletely off  from  the  approaches  to  Wilhelmshaven?  " 

"Not  without  immense  risk.  He  would  have 
had  to  pass  into  mine  fields  and  penetrate  them  all 
through  the  hours  of  darkness.  He  might  have 
lost  half  his  fleet.  Our  trouble  has  always  been 
the  extravagant  risk  involved  by  a  close  pursuit. 
When  the  Germans  retire  to  their  protected  waters 
we  must  let  them  go.  The  Grant  Fleet  is  too  vital 
a  force  to  be  needlessly  risked.  When  Jellicoe's 
final  stroke  failed,  owing  to  the  bad  light  and  the 
German  retirement,  the  battle  was  really  over. 
Jellicoe's  blow  had  spent  itself  on  the  air.  The 
Germans  were  almost  safe  except  from  our  torpedo 
attacks,  which  were  delivered  during  the  night  with 
splendid  dash  and  with  considerable  success.  But 
that  night  battle  was  the  queerest  business.  When 
the  sun  rose  the  enemy  had  vanished.  Fritz  says 
that  we  had  vanished.  I  suppose,  strictly  speaking, 
that  we  had.  At  least  we  were  out  of  his  sight, 
though  unintentionally.  Touch  had  been  lost  and 
the  enemy  had  got  safely  home,  taking  most  of  his 
damaged  ships  with  him.  Nothing  remained  for 
us  to  do  except  to  return  to  our  northern  bases, 
recoal,  and  refit.  The  Jutland  Battle  was  indecisive 
hi  one  sense,  crushingly  decisive  hi  another.  It  left 
the  German  Fleet  undestroyed,  but  left  it  impotent 


314  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

as  a  fighting  force.  Thereafter  it  sank  into  a  mere 
guard  for  Fritz's  submarine  bases.'' 

"And  the  gunnery  in  the  third  part?"  I  asked 
with  a  sly  glance  towards  the  Gunner.  He  rose 
at  the  bait. 

"I  do  not  doubt  that,  measured  by  the  per- 
centage of  hits  to  rounds  fired,  Copplestone  would 
call  it  wasteful  and  inefficient.  But  the  Navy 
regards  the  gunnery  hi  the  third  part  as  even  better 
than  in  the  second,  as  proving  our  superiority  over 
the  Germans.  They  were  then  at  their  worst  while 
we  were  at  our  best;  we  rapidly  improved  under 
the  test  of  battle,  they  as  rapidly  deteriorated. 
The  facts  are  certain.  The  enemy  ships  were  hit 
repeatedly  both  by  our  battleships  and  battle 
cruisers,  several  were  seen  to  haul  out  of  the  line 
on  fire,  and  at  least  one  battleship  was  observed  to 
sink.  Throughout  all  the  time — two  hours — dur- 
ing which  Jellicoe's  main  fleet  was  engaged  his 
ships  were  scarcely  touched;  not  a  single  man  was 
killed,  and  three  only  were  wounded.  Is  that  not 
good  enough  for  you?  " 

"You  have  forgotten  the  Invincible,"  remarked 
that  candid  critic  whom  I  have  called  Salt  Horse. 
"She  took  station  at  the  head  of  Beatty's  line  at 
6.21.  Her  distance  from  the  enemy  was  then 
8,000  yards.  It  was  a  gallant  service,  for  Beatty 
needed  support  very  badly,  but  by  6.55  the  Invin- 
cible had  been  destroyed.  The  Iron  Duke  passed 
her  floating  bottom  up.  She  must  have  been  caught 
by  the  concentrated  fire  of  several  enemy  ships. 
It  was  a  piece  of  luck  for  Fritz;  the  last  that  he 
had.  Apart  from  the  downing  of  the  Invincible,  I 
agree  that  the  third  part  of  the  battle  showed  our 
gunnery  to  be  highly  effective,  and  that  of  the 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  315 

Germans  to  be  almost  wholly  innocuous.  It  was 
his  torpedoes  we  had  then  to  fear,  not  his  guns." 
" During  the  third  part,"  said  the  Maker,  "the 
ranges  were  comparatively  low,  from  9,000  to 
12,000  yards,  but  the  visibility  was  so  bad  that 
damaged  ships  could  always  betake  themselves  out 
of  sight  and  danger.  I  am  disposed  to  think  that 
most  of  Fritz's  sorely  damaged  ships  did  get  home 
— hi  the  absence  of  evidence  that  they  did  not — 
for  we  never  really  closed  in  during  the  whole  of 
the  third  part  of  the  battle.  Fritz  was  continually 
coming  and  going,  appearing  and  disappearing. 
His  destroyer  attacks  were  well  delivered,  and 
though  one  battleship  only  was  hit,  our  friend  the 
Marlborough,  we  were  kept  pretty  busy  looking 
after  ourselves.  Jellicoe  was  like  a  heavy-weight 
boxer  trying  to  get  home  upon  a  little  man,  skipping 
about  just  beyond  his  reach.  We  had  the  speed 
and  the  guns  and  the  superiority  of  position,  but 
we  couldn't  see.  That  is  the  explanation  of  the 
indecisiveness  of  the  third  part  of  the  Jutland 
battle,  that  part  which,  with  decent  luck,  would 
have  ended  Fritz's  business.  Our  gunnery  was 
then  top-hole.  Take  the  typical  case  of  the  flagship 
Iron  Duke.  She  got  a  sight  of  a  Koenig  at  12,000 
yards  (seven  miles),  straddled  her  at  once,  and 
began  to  hit  at  the  second  salvo.  That  is  real 
gunnery,  not  much  waste  about  it  either  of  time  or 
shell.  Then  towards  sunset  the  Lion,  Princess 
Royal,  and  New  Zealand  engaged  two  battleships 
and  two  battle  cruisers  at  10,000  yards.  Within 
eighteen  minutes  three  of  the  Germans  had  been  set 
on  fire,  two  were  listing  heavily,  and  the  three 
burning  ones  were  only  saved  by  becoming  hidden 
in  smoke  and  mist.  That  is  the  way  to  get  on  to  a 


316  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

target  and  to  hold  on.  I  agree  with  our  old  friend 
Salt  Horse  that  the  long  ranges  during  the  first 
part  of  the  action,  18,000  to  20,000  yards — and 
even  more  for  the  Queen  Elizabeths — are  alto- 
gether too  long  for  accuracy  unless  the  conditions 
are  perfect.  The  distances  are  well  within  the 
power  of  the  big-calibre  guns  which  we  mount, 
but  are  out  of  harmony  with  the  English  naval 
spirit.  We  like  to  see  our  enemy  distinctly  and  to 
get  within  real  punishing  distance  of  him.  Com- 
pare our  harmless  performance  during  the  first 
part  with  the  beautiful  whacking  which  we  gave 
Fritz  hi  the  third  whenever  we  could  see  him. 
The  nearer  we  get  to  Fritz  the  better  our  gunners 
become  and  the  more  completely  his  system  goes  to 
bits.  Which  is  just  what  one  would  expect.  Our 
long-service  gunners  can  lay  by  sight  against  any 
ships  in  the  world  and  beat  them  to  rags,  but  when 
it  comes  to  blind  laying  directed  from  the  spotting 
tops  much  of  the  advantage  of  individual  nerve 
and  training  is  lost.  Like  Salt  Horse,  I  am  all  for 
in-fighting,  at  10,000  yards  or  less,  and  believe  that 
our  gun-layers  can  simply  smother  Fritz  if  they  are 
allowed  to  get  him  plainly  on  the  wires  of  their 
sighting  telescopes." 

"There  is  not  a  petty  officer  gun-layer  who 
wouldn't  agree  with  you,"  remarked  the  Gunner 
thoughtfully,  "but  the  young  scientific  Gunnery 
Lieutenants  would  shake  their  heads.  For  what 
would  become  of  the  beautiful  fire-direction  system 
which  they  have  been  building  up  for  years  past  if 
we  are  to  run  in  close  and  pound  in  the  good  old 
fashion?  Ten  thousand  yards  to  a  modern  15-inch 
gun  is  almost  point  blank." 

"Our  business  is  to  sink  the  enemy  in  the  shortest 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GIANTS  317 

possible  time,"  cried  Admiral  Salt  Horse,  "and  to 
fight  in  the  fashion  best  suited  to  what  Copplestone 
here  rightly  calls  the  Soul  of  the  Navy.  Long- 
range  fighting  is  all  very  well  when  one  can't  do 
anything  else — during  a  chase,  for  example — but 
when  one  can  close  in  to  a  really  effective  distance, 
then,  I  say,  close  in  and  take  the  risks.  In  the 
Jutland  Battle  we  lost  two  battle  cruisers  at  long 
range  and  one  only  after  the  ranges  had  shortened. 
Fritz  shot  well  at  long  range,  but  got  worse  and 
worse  as  we  drew  nearer  to  him,  until  at  the  end  his 
gunnery  simply  did  not  count.  Our  ancestors  had 
a  similar  problem  to  solve,  and  solved  it  at  the 
Battle  of  the  Saints  in  brutal  fashion  by  breaking 
the  French  line  and  fighting  at  close  quarters. 
There  is  a  lot  to  be  learned  from  the  Jutland  Battle, 
though  it  is  not  for  an  old  dog  like  me  to  draw  the 
lessons.  But  what  does  seem  to  shout  at  one  is 
that  the  way  to  fight  a  German  is  to  close  in  upon 
him  and  to  knock  the  moral  stuffing  out  of  him. 
The  destroyers  always  do  it  and  so  do  our  sub- 
marines. I  am  told  that  the  way  the  destroyers 
charged  battleships  by  night,  and  rounded  up  the 
enemy's  light  stuff  by  day,  was  a  liberal  education 
in  naval  psychology.  We  are  at  our  best  when  the 
risks  are  greatest — it  is  the  sporting  instinct  of  the 
race  that  sustains  us.  But  Fritz,  who  is  no  sports- 
man, and  has  a  good  deal  more  of  imagination  than 
our  lower  deck,  cracks  when  the  strain  upon  his 
nerves  passes  the  critical  point.  Our  young  officers 
and  men  have  no  nerves;  Fritz  has  more  than  is 
good  for  him;  let  us  take  advantage  of  his  moral 
weakness  and  hustle  him  beyond  the  point  when 
he  cracks.  He  is  a  landsman  artificially  made  into 
a  seaman;  our  men  are  seamen  born.  In  a  battle- 


318  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

ship  action  the  personal  factor  tends  to  be  over- 
borne by  the  immensity  of  the  fighting  instruments, 
but  it  is  there  all  the  time  and  is  the  one  thing  which 
really  counts.  We  give  it  full  scope  in  the  de- 
stroyers, submarines,  and  light  cruisers;  let  us  give 
it  full  scope  in  the  big  ships  of  the  battle  line.  Let 
our  MEN  get  at  Fritz;  don't  seek  to  convert  them 
into  mere  parts  of  a  machine,  give  their  individu- 
ality the  fullest  play;  you  need  then  have  no  fear 
lest  their  work  should  prove  wasteful  or  ineffective." 

The  Master  Gunner,  a  man  ten  years  younger 
than  old  Salt  Horse,  smiled  and  said,  "I  am  afraid 
that  the  gunnery  problem  has  become  too  com- 
plicated to  yield  to  your  pleasing  solution.  A  few 
years  ago  it  would  have  been  considered  a  futile 
waste  of  shell  to  fight  at  over  10,000  yards,  but  the 
growth  in  the  size  of  our  guns  and  in  our  methods  of 
using  them  have  made  us  at  least  as  accurate  at 
20,000  yards  as  we  used  to  be  at  10,000.  At  from 
9,000  to  12,000  in  good  light  we  are  now  terrific. 
All  my  sympathies  are  on  your  side;  the  Navy 
has  always  loved  to  draw  more  closely  to  the 
enemy,  and  maybe  our  instincts  should  be  our  guide. 
I  can't  say.  If  we  could  have  a  big-ship  action 
every  month  the  problem  would  soon  be  solved. 
Our  trouble  is  that  we  don't  get  enough  of  the  Real 
Thing.  You  may  be  very  sure  that  if  our  officers 
and  men  were  told  to  run  in  upon  Fritz  and  to 
smash  him,  at  the  ranges  which  are  now  short,  they 
would  welcome  the  order  with  enthusiasm.  The 
quality  and  training  of  our  sea  personnel  is  glorious, 
incomparable.  I  live  in  wonder  at  it." 

"And  so  do  I,"  cried  the  Maker,  a  man  not  ready 
to  display  enthusiasm.  "One  has  lived  with  the 
professional  Navy  so  long  that  one  comes  to  take 


319 

its  superb  qualities  for  granted;  one  needs  to  see 
the  English  Navy  in  action  to  be  aroused  to  its 
merits.  On  May  31st  very  few  of  those  in  Evan- 
Thomas's  or  Jellicoe's  squadrons  had  been  under 
fire — Beatty's  men  had,  of  course,  more  than  once. 
If  they  showed  any  defect  it  was  due  to  some  slight 
over-eagerness.  But  this  soon  passed.  In  a  big- 
ship  action  not  one  man  in  a  hundred  has  any  oppor- 
tunity of  personal  distinction — which  is  an  uncom- 
monly good  thing  for  the  Navy.  We  have  no  use 
for  pot-hunters  and  advertisers.  We  want  every 
man  to  do  his  little  bit,  devotedly,  perfectly,  with- 
out any  thought  of  attracting  attention.  Ours  is 
team  work.  If  men  are  saturated  through  and 
through  with  this  spirit  of  common  devotion  to  duty 
they  sacrifice  themselves  as  a  matter  of  course  when 
the  call  comes.  More  than  once  fire  penetrated  to 
the  magazines  of  ships.  The  men  who  instantly 
rolled  upon  the  blazing  bags  of  cordite,  and  extin- 
guished the  flames  with  their  bodies,  did  not  wait 
for  orders  nor  did  they  expect  to  be  mentioned  in 
dispatches.  It  was  just  their  job.  But  what  I  did 
like  was  Jellicoe's  special  mention  of  his  engineers. 
These  men,  upon  whose  faithful  efficiency  every- 
thing depends,  who,  buried  in  the  bowels  of  ships, 
carry  us  into  action  and  maintain  us  there,  who  are 
the  first  to  die  when  a  ship  sinks  and  the  last  to  be 
remembered  in  Honours  lists,  these  men  are  of  more 
real  account  than  almost  all  those  others  of  us  who 
prance  in  our  decorations  upon  the  public  stage. 
If  the  conning  tower  is  the  brain  of  a  ship,  the 
engine-room  is  its  heart.  When  Jellicoe  was  speed- 
ing up  to  join  Beatty  and  Evan-Thomas  his  whole 
fleet  maintained  a  speed  in  excess  of  the  trial  speeds 
of  some  of  the  older  vessels.  Think  what  skilful 


320  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

devotion  this  simple  fact  reveals,  what  minute 
attention  day  hi  day  out  for  months  and  years,  so 
that  in  the  hour  of  need  no  mechanical  gadget  may 
fail  of  its  duty.  And  as  with  Jellicoe's  Fleet  so  all 
through  the  war.  Whenever  the  engine-rooms  have 
been  tested  up  to  breaking  strain  they  have 
always,  always,  stood  up  to  the  test.  I  think  less 
of  the  splendid  work  done  by  destroyer  flotillas, 
by  combatant  officers  and  men  in  the  big  ships,  by 
all  those  who  have  manned  and  directed  the  light 
cruisers.  Their  work  was  done  within  sight;  that 
of  the  engine-rooms  was  hidden." 

"I  wish  that  the  big  public  could  hear  you/'  I 
said,  ''the  big  public  whose  heart  is  always  in  the 
right  place  though  its  head  is  always  damned 
ignorant  and  often  damned  silly." 

The  Maker  of  Guns  and  Ships  turned  on  me,  this 
calm,  cold  man  whom  I  had  thought  a  stranger  to 
emotion.  ' '  And  whose  fault  is  that?  You  are  a  bit 
of  an  ass,  Copplestone,  and  inconveniently  inquisi- 
tive. But  you  can  be  useful  sometimes.  When  you 
come  to  write  of  the  war  at  sea,  do  not  wrap  your- 
self up  in  a  tangle  of  strategy  and  tactics  of  which 
you  know  very  little.  Stick  to  the  broad  human 
issues.  Reveal  the  men  who  fight  rather  than  the 
ships  which  are  fought  with.  Think  of  the  Navy 
as  a  Service  of  flesh  and  blood  and  soul,  no  less  than 
of  brains  and  heart.  If  you  will  do  this,  and  write 
as  well  as  you  know  how  to  do,  the  public  will  not 
remain  either  damned  ignorant  or  damned  silly." 

"I  will  do  my  best,"  said  I,  humbly. 


EPILOGUE 

LIEUTENANT 


Now  in  the  names  of  all  the  gods  at  once, 
Upon  what  meat  doth  this  our  Caesar  feed, 
That  he  is  grown  so  great? 

WHEN  the  war  is  over  and  tens  of  thousands  of 
young  men,  who  have  drunk  deep  of  the  wine  of  life, 
are  thrown  back  upon  ginger  ale,  what  will  be  the 
effect  upon  their  heads  and  stomachs?  I  do  not 
know;  I  have  no  data,  except  in  the  one  instance 
of  my  friend,  Lieutenant  Caesar,  R.N.V.R. 

I  must  write  of  him  with  much  delicacy  and 
restraint,  for  his  friendship  is  too  rich  a  privilege 
to  be  imperilled.  His  sense  of  humour  is  danger- 
ously subtle.  Csesar  is  twenty-three,  and  I  am— 
well,  fully  twice  his  age  —  yet  he  bears  himself  as 
if  he  were  infinitely  my  senior  in  years  and  experi- 
ence. And  he  is  right.  What  in  all  my  toll  of 
wasted  years  can  be  set  beside  those  crowded 
twenty-two  months  of  his,  now  ended  and  done 
with?  The  fire  of  his  life  glowed  during  those 
months  with  the  white  intensity  of  an  electric  arc  ;  in 
a  moment  it  went  black  when  the  current  was  cut  off; 
he  was  left  groping  in  the  darkness  for  matches  and 
tallow  candles.  I  dare  not  sympathise  with  him 
openly,  though  I  feel  deeply,  for  he  would  laugh 
and  call  me  a  silly  old  buffer  —  a  term  which  I  dread 
above  all  others. 


321 


322  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

The  variegated  career  of  Lieutenant  Csesar  fills 
me  with  the  deepest  envy.  When  the  war  broke 
out  he  was  a  classical  scholar  at  Oxford,  one  of  the 
bright  spirits  of  his  year.  His  first  in  Greats, 
his  prospects  of  the  Ireland,  his  almost  certain 
Fellowship — he  threw  them  up.  The  Army  had 
no  interest  for  him,  but  to  the  Navy  he  was  bound 
by  links  of  family  association.  To  the  Navy  there- 
fore he  turned,  and  prevailed  upon  a  somewhat 
reluctant  Admiralty  to  gazette  him  as  a  Sub- 
Lieutenant  in  the  Royal  Naval  Volunteer  Reserve. 
"A  classical  scholar,"  argued  Whitehall,  "is  about 
as  much  use  to  us  as  a  ruddy  poet.  What  can  this 
young  man  do  away  from  his  books?"  Csesar 
rapidly  marshalled  his  poor  accomplishments.  He 
could  row — no  use,  we  are  in  the  steam  and  petrol 
age;  he  had  been  a  sergeant  of  O.T.C. — no  thanks, 
try  the  Royal  Naval  Division;  he  could  drive  a 
motor-car  and  was  a  tolerable  engineer.  At  last 
some  famt  impression  was  made.  Did  he  under- 
stand the  engines  of  a  motor-boat?  It  appeared 
that  he  did;  was,  in  fact,  a  mildly  enthusiastic 
member  of  the  Royal  Motor  Boat  Club  at  South- 
ampton. "Now  you're  talking,"  said  Whitehall. 
"Why  didn't  you  say  this  at  once  instead  of  wasting 
our  time  over  your  useless  frillings?  "  The  official 
wheels  stirred,  and  within  two  or  three  weeks  Caesar 
found  himself  gazetted,  and  dropped  into  a  fine 
big  motor  patrol  boat,  which  the  Admiralty  had 
commandeered  and  turned  to  the  protection  of 
battleships  from  submarines.  At  that  time  we 
had  not  a  safe  harbour  anywhere  except  on  the 
South  Coast,  where  they  did  not  happen  to  be 
wanted.  For  many  months  Csesar  patrolled  by 
night  and  day  deep  cold  harbours  on  the  east 


EPILOGUE:    LIEUTENANT  CLESAR        323 

coast  of  Scotland,  hunting  periscopes.  It  was  an 
arduous  but  exhilarating  service.  His  immediate 
chief,  a  Lieutenant  R.N.V.R.,  was  a  benevolent 
American,  the  late  owner  of  the  boat.  He  had 
handed  her  over  without  payment  in  return  for  a 
lieutenant's  commission.  "I  was  once,"  he  de- 
clared, "a  two-striper  in  Uncle  Sam's  Navy.  I 
got  too  rich  for  my  health,  chucked  the  Service, 
and  have  been  eating  myself  out  of  shape.  Take 
the  boat  but,  for  God's  sake,  give  me  the  job  of 
running  her.  She's  too  pretty  for  your  thumb- 
crushing  blacksmiths  to  spoil."  When  reminded 
that  he  was  an  alien,  he  treated  the  objection  as 
the  thinnest  of  evasive  pleas.  "  King  George  is 
my  man;  there  are  no  diamonds  in  his  garters," 
he  wrote. 

The  Lords  of  the  Admiralty,  who  never  in  their 
sheltered  lives  had  read  such  letters  as  now  poured 
in  upon  them,  gasped,  collapsed,  and  gave  to  the 
benevolent  neutral  all  that  he  asked. 

Csesar  worshipped  the  big  motor-boat  and  her 
astonishing  commander.  His  first  love  wrapped 
itself  round  the  twin  engines,  two  of  them,  six- 
cylinders  each,  120  horse-power.  They  were  ducks 
of  engines  which  never  gave  any  trouble,  because 
Csesar  and  the  two  Ajnerican  engineers — I  had 
almost  written  nurses — were  always  on  the  watch 
to  detect  the  least  whimper  of  pain.  But  though 
he  never  neglected  his  beloved  engines,  the  mys- 
terious fascinations  of  the  three-pounder  gun  in 
the  bows  gradually  vanquished  his  mature  heart. 
Her  deft  breech  mechanism,  her  rapid  loading, 
the  sweet,  kindly  way  she  slipped  to  and  fro  in 
her  cradle,  became  charms  before  which  he  suc- 
cumbed utterly.  Caesar  and  the  gun's  high-priest, 


,524  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

a  petty  officer  gun-layer,  became  the  closest 
of  friends,  and  the  pair  of  them  would  spend  hours 
daily  cleaning  and  oiling  their  precious  toy.  The 
American  lieutenant  had  his  own  bizarre  notions  of 
discipline — he  thought  nothing  of  addressing  the 
petty  officer  as  "old  horse";  but  he  worked  as 
hard  as  Caesar  himself,  kept  everyone  in  the  best  of 
spirits  through  the  vilest  spells  of  weather,  and  was 
a  perpetual  fount  of  ingenious  plans  for  the  undoing 
of  Fritz.  The  Mighty  Buzzer — named  from  her 
throbbing  exhaust — was  a  happy  ship. 

The  Buzzer's  career  as  a  king's  ship  was  brief, 
and  her  death  glorious.  One  night,  or  rather  early 
morning,  she  was  far  out  hi  the  misty  jaws  of  a 
Highland  loch,  within  which  temporarily  rested 
many  great  battle-cruisers.  Caesar  despised  these 
vast  and  potent  vessels.  "What  use  are  they?" 
he  would  ask  of  his  chief.  "There  is  nothing  for 
them  to  fight,  and  they  would  all  have  been  sunk 
long  ago  but  for  us."  Fast  motor-boats,  with  120 
horse-power  engines,  twenty-five  knots  of  speed — 
thirty  at  a  pinch,  untruthfully  claimed  the  Lieu- 
tenant— and  beautiful  3-pounder  guns  were  hi 
Caesar's  view,  the  last  word  in  naval  equipment. 
The  Lieutenant  would  shake  his  head  gravely  at  his 
Sub's  exuberant  ignorance.  "They  are  gay  old 
guys  just  now,"  he  would  reply,  "and  feeling  pretty 
cheap.  But  some  day  they  will  get  busy  and  knock 
spots  off  Fritz's  hide.  You  Britishers  are  darned 
slow,  but  when  you  do  fetch  a  gun  it's  time  to  shin 
up  trees.  The  Germs  have  stirred  up  the  British 
Lion  real  proper  and,  I  guess,  wish  now  they'd  let 
him  stay  asleep." 

The  Buzzer  had  chased  many  a  German  sub- 
marine, compelling  it  to  dive  deeply  and  become 


EPILOGUE:    LIEUTENANT  CLESAR        325 

harmless,  but  never  yet  had  Caesar  been  privileged 
to  see  one  close.    Upon  this  misty  morning  of  her 
demise,  when  he  gained  fame,  she  was  farther  out 
to  sea  than  usual,  and  was  cruising  at  about  the  spot 
where  enterprising  U-boats  were  wont  to  come  up 
to  take  a  bearing.     I  am  writing  of  the  days  before 
our  harbour  defences  had  chilled  their  enterprise 
into  inanition.    Caesar  was  on  watch,  and  stood  at 
the  wheel  amidships.    The  petty  officer  and  a  blue- 
jacket were  stationed  at  the  gun  forward.     Our 
friend's  senses  were  very  much  alert,  for  he  took  his 
duties  with  the  utmost  seriousness.     Near  his  boat 
the  sea  heaved  and  swirled,  and  as  he  saw  a  queer 
wave  pile  up  he  became,  if  possible,  even  more  alert 
and  called  to  his  watch  to  stand  by.     The  sea  went 
on  swirling,  the  surface  broke  suddenly,  and  up 
swooped  the  hood  and  thin  tube  of  a  periscope. 
It  was  less  than  fifty  yards  away,  and  for  a  moment 
the  lenses  did  not  include  the  Buzzer  within  their 
field  of  vision.     For  Caesar,  his  watch  on  deck,  and 
the   sleepers   below,   the  next   few   seconds   were 
packed  with  incident.     Round  came   the  Buzzer 
pointing  straight  for  the  periscope,   the  exhaust 
roared  as  Caesar  called  for  full  speed,  and  the  gun 
crashed    out.     Away    went    periscope    and    tube, 
wiped  off  by  the  spreading  cone  of  the  explosion,  as 
if  they  were  no  more  substantial  than  a  bullrush, 
and  up  shot  the  Buzzer's  bows  as  Caesar  drove  her 
keel  violently  upon  the  top  of  the  conning  tower 
of   the   rising    U-boat.     Keel   and   conning-tower 
ripped  together;   there  was  a  tremendous  rush  of 
air-bubbles,  followed  by  oil,  and  the  U-boat  was 
no  more.    She  had  gone,  and  the  Buzzer,  with  six 
feet  of  her  tender  bottom  torn  off,  was  in  the  act  to 
follow.    As  she  cocked  up  her  stern  to  dive  after 


326  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

her  prey  there  was  just  time  to  get  officers  and  crew 
into  lifebelts  and  to  signal  for  help.  Caesar  met  in 
the  water  his  commanding  officer,  who,  though 
nearly  hurled  through  his  cabin  walls  by  the  shock, 
and  entirely  ignorant  of  the  cataclysm  in  which  he 
had  been  involved,  was  cheerful  as  ever.  "Sakes," 
he  gasped,  when  he  had  cleared  mouth  and  nose  of 
salt  water,  "when  you  Britishers  do  get  busy, 
things — sort  of — hum." 

A  destroyer  rushing  down  picked  up  the  swimmers 
and  heard  their  story.  The  evidence  was  con- 
sidered sufficient,  for  oil  still  spread  over  the  sea, 
and  there  were  no  rocks  within  miles  to  have 
ripped  out  the  Buzzer's  keel,  so  another  U-boat 
was  credited  to  the  Royal  Navy  and  Caesar  became 
a  lieutenant.  It  was  a  proud  day  for  him. 

But  he  had  lost  his  ship,  and  was  for  a  time  out 
of  a  job.  The  new  harbour  defences  were  under 
way  and  fast  motor-boars  were  for  a  while  less  in 
demand.  The  Admiralty  solved  the  problem  of 
his  future.  "This  young  man,"  it  observed,  "is 
nothing  better  than  a  temporary  lieutenant  of  the 
Volunteer  Reserve,  but  he  is  not  wholly  without 
intelligence  and  has  a  pretty  hand  with  a  gun. 
We  will  teach  him  something  useful."  So  the  order 
was  issued  that  Lieutenant  Caesar  should  proceed  to 
Whale  Island,  there  to  be  instructed  in  the  mys- 
teries of  naval  gunnery.  "You  will  have  to  work 
at  Whale  Island,"  warned  the  captain  of  his 
flotilla,  "and  don't  you  forget  it.  It  is  not  like 
Oxford."  This  to  reduce  Caesar  to  the  proper 
level  of  humility. 

Up  to  this  stage  in  his  career  Lieutenant  Caesar, 
though  temporarily  serving  in  the  Royal  Navy, 
knew  nothing  whatever  about  it.  His  status  was 


EPILOGUE:    LIEUTENANT  (LESAR        327 

defined  for  me  once  by  a  sergeant  of  Marines: 
"A  temporary  gentleman,  sir,  'ere  to-day  and  gone 
to-morrow,  and  good  riddance,  sir."  Upon  land  the 
corps  and  regiments  have  been  swamped  by  tem- 
poraries, but  at  sea  the  Regular  Navy  remains  in 
full  possession.  In  the  barracks  at  Whale  Island, 
where  Caesar  was  assigned  quarters,  he  felt  like  a 
very  small  schoolboy  newly  joining  a  very  large 
school.  His  fellow-pupils  were  R.N.R.  men,  mer- 
cantile brass-bounders  with  mates'  and  masters' 
certificates,  and  R.N.V.R.'s  drawn  from  diverse 
classes.  To  him  they  seemed  a  queer  lot.  He  lay 
low  and  studied  them,  finding  most  of  them  wholly 
ignorant  of  everything  which  he  knew,  but  pro- 
foundly versed  in  things  which  he  didn't.  The 
instructors  of  the  Regular  Service  gave  him  his 
first  definite  contact  with  the  Navy.  "My  original 
impression  of  them,"  he  told  me,  laughing,  "was 
that  they  were  all  mad.  I  had  come  to  learn 
gunnery,  but  for  a  whole  week  they,  insisted  upon 
teaching  me  squad  drill,  about  the  most  derisory 
version  of  drill  which  I  have  ever  seen.  Picture 
us,  a  mob  of  mates  out  of  liners  and  volunteers  out 
of  workshops  and  technical  schools,  trailing  rifles 
round  the  square  at  Whale  Island,  feeling  dazed 
and  helpless,  and  wondering  if  we  had  brought  up 
by  mistake  at  a  lunatic  asylum.  After  the  first 
week,  during  which  Whale  Island  indulged  its 
pathetic  belief  that  its  true  metier  is  squad  drill, 
we  were  all  right.  We  got  busy  at  the  guns,  and 
found  plenty  to  learn."  It  was  at  Whale  Island 
that  he  received  the  name  of  Caesar,  the  one  Latin 
author  of  which  his  messmates  had  any  recollection. 
During  the  first  month  of  his  training  he  daily 
cursed  Winchester  and  Oxford  for  the  frightful  gaps 


328  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

which  they  had  left  in  his  educational  equipment. 
He  could  acquire  languages  with  anyone,  but  mathe- 
matics, that  essential  key  to  the  mysteries  of  gun- 
nery, gave  him  endless  trouble.  But  he  had  a  keenly 
tempered  brain  and  limitless  persistence.  Slowly 
at  first,  more  rapidly  later,  he  made  up  on  his 
contemporaries,  and  when  after  two  months  of  the 
toughest  work  of  his  life  he  gained  a  first-class 
certificate,  he  felt  that  at  last  he  had  tasted  a  real 
success. 

Time  brings  its  revenges.  As  a  Sub  in  a  motor- 
boat  he  had  affected  to  think  slightingly  of  the 
great  battle-cruisers  which  his  small  craft  protected, 
but  now  that  he  was  transferred  to  one  of  the  new 
Cats  of  the  First  Battle  Cruiser  Squadron  his  views 
violently  changed.  Battleships  were  all  very  well, 
they  had  huge  guns  and  tremendous  armour,  but 
when  it  came  to  speed  and  persistent  aggressiveness 
what  were  these  sea  monsters  in  comparison  with 
the  Cats?  Why  nothing,  of  course.  Which  shows 
that  Caesar  was  becoming  a  Navyman.  Put  a 
naval  officer  into  the  veriest  tub  which  can  keep 
herself  afloat  with  difficulty,  and  steam  five  knots 
in  a  tideway,  and  he  will  exalt  her  into  the  most 
efficient  craft  beneath  the  White  Ensign.  For  she 
is  His  Ship. 

Lieutenant  Caesar  very  quickly  became  at  one 
with  his  new  ship,  and  entered  into  his  kingdom. 
Whether  upon  the  loading  platform  of  a  turret 
or  in  control  of  a  side  battery,  he  serenely  took 
up  his  place  and  felt  that  he  had  expanded  to  fill  it 
adequately.  His  tone  became  obtrusively  pro- 
fessional. When  I  asked  for  some  details  of  his 
hardships  and  his  thrills,  he  sneered  at  me  most 
rudely.  "There  are  no  hardships/'  he  declared; 


EPILOGUE:    LIEUTENANT  CAESAR        329 

"we  live  and  grow  fat,  and  there  is  not  a  thrill  to 
the  whole  war.  My  motor-boat  was  a  desperate 
buccaneer  in  comparison  with  these  stately  Founts 
of  Power.  Every  week  or  two  we  do  a  Silent  Might 
parade  in  the  North  Sea,  but  nothing  ever  happens." 
This  was  after  the  Dogger  Bank  action  for  which 
he  was  too  late,  and  before  the  Jutland  Battle. 
He  wrote  to  me  many  veiled  accounts  of  the  North 
Sea  stunts  upon  which  the  battle-cruisers  were  per- 
sistently engaged,  but  always  insisted  that  they 
were  void  of  excitement. 

"Dismiss  from  your  landsman's  mind,"  he  would 
write — Caesar  was  now  a  sailor  among  sailors — 
"all  idea  of  thrills.  There  aren't  any.  When  the 
hoist  Prepare  to  Leave  Harbour  goes  up  on  the 
flagship,  and  black  smoke  begins  to  pour  from  every 
funnel  in  the  Squadron,  there  is  no  excitement  and 
no  preparation — for  we  are  already  fully  prepared. 
We  go  out  with  our  attendant  destroyers  and  light 
cruisers  and  scour  at  will  over  the  '  German  Ocean ' 
looking  for  Fritz,  that  we  may  fall  upon  him.  But 
he  is  too  cunning  for  us.  I  wish  that  we  had  some 
scouting  airships." 

This  wish  of  Lieutenant  Caesar  is,  I  believe,  shared 
by  every  officer  in  the  Grand  Fleet  from  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief  downwards.  Airships  cannot  fight 
airships  or  sea  ships,  and  are  of  very  little  use  as 
destructive  agents,  but  they  are  bright  gems  hi  the 
firmament  of  scouts. 

I  asked  Caesar  why  he  did  not  keep  notes  of  his 
manifold  experiences.  "It  is  against  orders," 
answered  he  sorrowfully.  "We  are  not  allowed 
to  keep  a  diary,  and  I  have  a  rotten  memory  for 


330  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

those  intimate  details  which  give  life  to  a  story. 
If  I  could  keep  notes  I  would  set  up  in  business  as  a 
naval  Boyd  Cable."  But  I  am  afraid  that  Caesar 
was  reckoning  without  the  Naval  Censor,  a  savage, 
hungry  lion  beside  whom  his  brother  of  the  Mili- 
tary Department  is  a  complacent  lamb.  Caesar 
has  a  pretty  pen,  but  his  hands  are  in  shackles. 

Caesar  bent  his  keen  eyes  upon  those  with  whom 
he  was  associated,  studied  their  strength  and  weak- 
ness, and  delivered  judgment,  intolerant  in  its 
youthful  sureness. 

"The  young  lieutenants,"  he  wrote,  "are  wonder- 
ful. Profoundly  and  serenely  competent  at  their 
own  work,  but  irresponsible  as  children  in  every- 
thing else.  Their  ideas  of  chaff  and  ragging  never 
arise  above  those  of  the  fifth  form.  Whenever  they 
speak  of  the  Empire  they  mean  the  one  in  Leicester 
Square.  Shore  leave  for  them  means  a  bust  at 
the  Trocadero,  with  a  music-hall  to  follow,  prefer- 
ably with  a  pretty  girl.  Their  notions  of  shore 
life  are  of  the  earth  earthy,  not  to  say  fleshy,  but 
at  sea  work  they  approach  the  divine.  There  is 
not  a  two-striper  in  my  wardroom  who  could  not 
with  complete  confidence  and  complete  competence 
take  the  Grand  Fleet  into  action.  But  of  educa- 
tion, as  you  or  I  understand  the  word,  they  have 
none.  The  Navy  has  been  their  strictly  intensive 
life  since  they  left  school  at  about  thirteen.  Of  art, 
or  literature,  or  music — except  in  the  crudest  forms 
— they  know  nothing,  and  care  nothing.  And  this 
makes  their  early  retirement  the  more  tragical. 
They  go  out,  nine-tenths  of  them,  before  they 
reach  forty  without  mental  or  artistic  resources. 
The  Navy  is  a  remorseless  user  up  of  youth.  Those 
who  remain  afloat,  especially  those  without  com- 


EPILOGUE:    LIEUTENANT  C^SAR        331 

batant   responsibilities,   tend   to   degenerate   into 
S.O.B.s." 

I  will  not  translate;  Caesar  is  too  young  and  too 
clever  to  be  sympathetic  towards  those  of  middle 
age. 

One  afternoon  in  spring  Lieutenant  Caesar  was 
plunged  without  warning  into  the  Jutland  Battle. 
He  and  his  like  were  placidly  waiting  at  action 
stations  in  their  turrets,  when  the  order  came  to 
put  live  shell  into  the  guns.  For  six  hours  he 
remained  in  his  turret,  serving  his  two  13.5-inch 
guns,  but  seeing  nothing  of  what  passed  outside 
his  thick  steel  walls.  When  I  implored  him  to 
recount  to  me  his  experiences,  he  protested  that  he 
had  none. 

"You  might  as  well  ask  a  sardine,  hermetically 
sealed  in  a  tin,  to  describe  a  fire  in  a  grocer's  shop," 
wrote  he.  "I  was  that  sardine,  and  so  were  nearly 
all  of  us.  Those  in  the  conning  tower  saw  some- 
thing, and  so  did  the  officers  in  the  spotting  top 
when  they  were  not  being  smothered  by  smoke 
and  by  water  thrown  up  by  bursting  shells.  But 
as  for  the  rest  of  us — don't  you  believe  the  stories 
told  you  by  eye-witnesses  of  naval  battles.  They 
are  all  second  or  third  hand,  and  rubbish  at  that. 
When  I  have  sorted  the  thing  out  from  all  those 
who  did  see,  and  collated  the  discrepant  accounts, 
I  will  give  you  my  conclusions,  but  I  shall  not  be 
allowed  to  write  them.  For  a  literary  man  the 
Navy  is  a  rotten  service." 

Caesar  at  this  time  wrote  rather  crossly.  He  had, 
I  think,  visualised  himself  as  the  writer  some  day 
of  an  immortal  story  of  the  greatest  naval  battle  in 


332  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

history.  Now  that  he  had  been  through  it,  he 
knew  as  little  of  it  at  first  hand  as  a  heavy  gunner 
in  France  does  of  the  advancing  infantry  whose 
path  forward  he  is  cutting  out. 

The  isolation  of  a  busy  turret  in  action  may  be 
realised  when  one  learns  that  Caesar  knew  nothing 
of  the  loss  of  the  Queen  Mary,  Indefatigable,  or 
Invincible  until  hours  after  they  had  gone  to  the 
bottom.  He  had  heard  nothing  even  of  damage 
suffered  by  his  own  ship  until,  a  grimy  figure  in 
frowsy  overalls,  he  crawled  through  the  roof  of  his 
big  sardine  tin  and  met  in  the  darkness  one  of  his 
friends  who  had  been  hi  the  spotting  top. 

"There  was  a  frightful  row  going  on  as  we  sat 
there  on  the  turret's  roof,"  wrote  Caesar  to  me. 
"Our  destroyers  were  charging  in  upon  Fritz's 
flying  ships,  which  with  searchlights  and  guns  of 
all  calibres  were  seeking  to  defend  themselves. 
We  could  not  fire  for  our  destroyers  were  in  the  way. 
The  horizon  flamed  like  the  aurora  borealis,  and 
now  and  then  big  shells,  ricochetting,  would  scream 
over  us.  I  enjoyed  myself  fine,  and  had  no  wish  to 
seek  safety  in  my  turret,  of  which  I  was  heartily 
sick.  That  is  the  only  part  of  the  action  which  I 
saw,  and  the  details  were  buried  in  confusion  and 
darkness.  All  the  rest  of  the  day  I  had  been  serving 
two  hungry  guns  with  shells  and  cordite,  and  firing 
them  into  unknown  space.  I  was  too  intent  on  my 
duties  to  be  bored,  but  I  did  not  get  the  least  bit  of 
a  thrill  until  I  climbed  out  on  the  roof.  Still  I  am 
glad  to  have  been  in  the  Battle,  and,  I  love  my  big 
wise  guns." 

It  was  while  his  battle-cruiser  was  being  refitted, 


EPILOGUE:    LIEUTENANT  OESAR        333 

and  when  he  had  just  returned  from  a  few  days* 
leave,  that  the  wheel  of  his  destiny  made  another 
turn.  He  was  howked  struggling  and  kicking  out 
of  his  turret  as  one  plucks  a  periwinkle  from  its 
shell,  and  cast  into  a  destroyer  attached  to  the 
North  Sea  patrol.  He  had,  as  I  have  told,  an  easy 
knack  of  picking  up  languages.  To  a  solid  knowl- 
edge of  German  he  had  added  in  past  vacations 
more  than  a  speaking  acquaintance  with  the 
Scandinavian  tongues — Norse,  Danish,  and  Swedish 
— and  his  industry  was  now  turned  to  his  undoing. 
Naval  gunners  were  more  plentiful  than  boarding 
officers  who  could  converse  with  the  benevolent 
and  unbenevolent  neutral,  and  Caesar's  unfortunate 
accomplishments  clearly  indicated  him  for  a  new 
job.  At  first  he  was  furious,  but  became  quickly 
reconciled.  For,  as  he  argued,  fighting  on  a  grand 
scale  is  over,  Fritz  has  had  such  a  gruelling  that 
he  won't  come  out  any  more;  North  Sea  stunts 
will  seem  very  tame  after  that  day  out  by  the 
Jutland  coast;  patrolling  the  upper  waters  of  the 
North  Sea  cannot  be  quite  dull,  and  cross-examining 
Scandinavian  pirates  may  become  positively  excit- 
ing. So  Caesar  settled  down  in  his  destroyer,  in  so  far 
as  any  one  can  settle  down  in  such  an  uneasy  craft. 
Caesar  now  formed  part  of  the  inner  and  closer 
meshes  of  the  North  Sea  blockade  designed  to  inter- 
cept those  ships  which  had  penetrated  the  more 
widely  spread  net  outside.  Many  of  the  masters 
whom  he  interviewed  claimed  to  have  a  British  safe- 
conduct,  but  Caesar  was  not  to  be  bluffed.  With  a 
rough  and  chocolate-hued  skin  he  had  acquired 
the  peremptory  air  of  a  Sea  God. 

"It  is  rather  good  fun  sometimes,"  he  wrote  to 


334  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

me.  "We  can't  search  big  ships  on  the  high  seas 
at  all  thoroughly,  and  we  don't  want  to  send  them 
all  into  port  for  examination,  so  we  work  a  Black 
List.  I  have  a  list  from  the  War  Trade  Depart- 
ment of  firms  which  are  not  allowed  to  ship  to 
neutral  countries,  and  of  all  suspected  enemy  agents 
in  those  countries.  The  Norse,  Danish  and  Dutch 
skippers  are  very  decent  and  do  their  best  to  help, 
but  the  Swedes  are  horrid  blighters.  Whenever 
there  is  any  doubt  at  all  we  send  ships  into  port  to 
be  thoroughly  examined  there.  You  may  take 
it  that  not  much  gets  through  now.  Next  to  a  com- 
plete blockade  of  all  sea  traffic  for  neutral  ports — 
which  I  don't  suppose  the  politicians  can  stomach — 
our  Black  List  system  seems  to  be  the  goods.  I 
get  good  fun  with  these  merchant  skippers,  and  am 
becoming  quite  a  linguist,  but  the  work  is  less 
exciting  that  I  had  hoped.  It  is  amusing  to  see  a 
7,000-ton  tramp  escorted  into  port  by  a  twenty- 
foot  motor-boat  which  she  could  sling  up  on  her 
davits,  but  even  this  sight  becomes  a  matter  of 
course  after  a  while.  I  have  seen  something  of  war 
from  three  aspects,  and  seem  to  have  exhausted 
its  sensations.  They  are  greatly  overrated." 

But  Lieutenant  Caesar  was  destined  to  have  one 
more  experience  before  war  had  used  him  up  and 
relaid  him  upon  the  shelf  from  which  he  was 
plucked  in  September,  1914.  A  destroyer  upon 
patrol  duty  is  still  a  fighting  vessel,  and  fights  joy- 
fully whenever  she  can  snatch  a  plausible  oppor- 
tunity. Caesar  had  sunk  a  submarine,  served 
through  the  Jutland  Battle,  and  assisted  to  stop 
the  holes  in  the  British  blockade,  but  he  had  not  yet 
known  what  fighting  really  means.  That  is  reserved 


EPILOGUE:    LIEUTENANT  C^SAR        335 

for  destroyers  in  action.  One  afternoon  he  was 
cruising  not  far  from  the  Dogger  Bank,  when  the 
sound  of  light  guns  was  heard  a  few  miles  off  towards 
the  east.  The  Lieut.-Commander  in  charge  of  our 
unit  in  H.M.S.  Blockade  obeyed  the  Napoleonic 
rule  and  steered  at  once  for  the  guns.  In  about 
ten  minutes  a  group  of  small  craft  wreathed  in 
smoke,  lighted  up  at  short  intervals  by  gun  flashes, 
appeared  on  the  horizon,  and  roaring  at  her  full 
speed  of  34  knots  the  British  destroyer  swept  down 
upon  them.  Presently  seven  trawlers  were  made 
out  firing  with  their  small  guns  at  two  German 
torpedo  boats,  which  with  torpedo  and  23-pounder 
weapons  were  intent  upon  destroying  them.  One 
trawler  was  blown  sky-high  while  Caesar's  ship  was 
yet  half  a  mile  distant,  and  another  rolled  over 
shattered  by  German  shell.  "It  was  a  pretty 
sight,"  said  Csesar,  when  I  visited  him  in  hospital, 
and  learned  to  my  deep  joy  that  he  was  out  of 
danger.  "When  we  got  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
we  edged  to  starboard  to  give  the  torpedo  tubes  a 
clear  bearing  on  the  port  bow.  A  shell  or  two 
flew  over  us,  but  the  layers  at  the  tubes  took  no 
notice.  They  waited  till  we  were  quite  close,  not 
more  than  two  hundred  yards,  and  then  loosed  a 
torpedo.  I  have  never  seen  anything  so  quick  and 
smart.  I  saw  the  mouldy  drop  and  start,  and  then 
a  huge  column  of  water  spouted  up,  blotting  out 
entirely  the  nearest  German  boat.  The  water  fell 
and  set  us  tossing  wildly,  but  I  kept  my  feet  and 
could  see  that  German  destroyer  shut  up  exactly 
like  a  clasp-knife.  She  had  been  bust  up  amidships, 
her  bow  and  stern  almost  kissed  one  another,  and 
she  went  down  vertically.  The  other  turned  to 
fly,  firing  heavily  upon  us,  but  our  boys  had  her 


336  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

in  their  grip.  We  had  three  fine  guns,  4-inch  semi- 
automatics.  We  hit  her  full  on  the  starboard 
quarter  as  she  turned,  and  then  raked  her  the  whole 
length  of  her  deck.  I  did  not  see  the  end,  for 
earth  and  sky  crashed  all  round  me,  and  I  went  to 
sleep.  When  I  awoke  I  was  lying  below,  my  right 
leg  felt  dead,  but  there  was  no  pain,  and  from  the 
horrid  vibration  running  through  the  vessel  I  knew 
that  we  were  at  full  speed. 

'"Did  we  get  the  other  one?'  I  asked  of  my 
servant,  whom  I  saw  beside  me.  'She  sunk 
proper,  sir,'  said  he.  'You,  sir,  are  the  only 
casuality  we  'ad.'  It  was  an  honour  which  I 
found  it  difficult  to  appreciate.  'What's  the 
damage?'  I  muttered.  'I'm  afraid,  sir,'  he  replied 
diffidently,  'that  your  right  leg  is  bio  wed  away.' 
Then  I  fainted,  and  did  not  come  round  again 
till  I  was  in  hospital  here.  My  leg  is  gone  at 
the  knee ;  I  lost  a  lot  of  blood,  and  should  have  lost 
my  life  but  for  the  tourniquet  which  the  Owner 
himself  whipped  round  my  thigh.  They  have 
whittled  the  stump  shipshape  here,  and  I  am  to 
have  a  new  leg  of  the  most  fashionable  design. 
The  doctors  say  that  I  shall  not  know  the  difference 
when  I  get  used  to  it,  and  shall  be  able  to  play  golf 
and  even  tennis.  Golf  and  tennis!  Good  games, 
but  they  seem  a  bit  tame  after  the  life  I've  led  for 
the  last  two  years."  Caesar  fell  silent,  and  I  gripped 
his  hand. 

"It  isn't  as  if  you  were  in  the  Regular  Service," 
I  murmured.  "It  isn't  your  career  that's  gone. 
That  is  still  to  come.  You've  done  your  bit, 
Caesar,  old  man." 

His  eyes  glittered  and  a  tear  welled  over  and 
rolled  down  his  cheek.  That  was  all,  the  only  sign 


EPILOGUE:    LIEUTENANT  OESAR        337 

of  weakness  and  of  regret  for  the  lost  leg  and  the 
lost  opportunities  for  further  service.  When  he 
spoke  again  it  was  the  old  cheerful  Csesar  whom  I 
knew.  "It  seems  funny.  A  month  or  two  hence 
I  shall  be  back  at  Oxford,  reading  philosophy  and 
all  sorts  of  absurd  rubbish  for  my  First  in  Greats. 
From  Oxford  I  came,  and  to  Oxford  I  shall  return; 
these  two  years  of  life  will  seem  like  a  dream.  A 
few  years  hence  I  shall  have  nothing  but  my  medal 
and  my  wooden  leg  to  remind  me  of  them.  It  has 
been  a  good  time,  Copplestone — a  devilish  good 
time.  I  have  done  my  bit,  but  I  wasn't  cut  out 
for  a  fighting  man.  There  is  too  much  preparation 
and  too  little  real  business.  I  should  have  ex- 
hausted the  thing  and  got  bored.  In  time  I  should 
have  become  an  S.O.B.  like  some  of  those  others. 
No,  Copplestone,  I  have  nothing  to  regret,  not  even 
the  lost  leg.  It  is  better  to  go  out  like  this  than 
to  wait  till  the  end  of  the  war,  and  then  to  be  among 
the  Not  Wanteds." 

"They've  made  you  a  Lieutenant-Commander," 
I  said  slowly. 

"Two  and  a  half  stripes,"  he  murmured.  "They 
look  pretty,  but  they  are  only  the  wavy  ones,  not 
the  real  article.  I  was  never  anything  but  a 
'tempory  blighter,  'ere  to-day  and  gone  to-mor- 
row, and  good  riddance.'  It  was  decent  of  them 
to  think  of  me,  but  stripes  are  no  use  to  me  now. 
I  shall  be  at  Oxford  with  the  other  cripples,  and 
the  weak  hearts,  and  the  aliens,  and  the  con- 
scientious objectors — what  do  the  dregs  of  Oxford 
know  of  stripes?  " 


I  saw  as  much  as  I  could  of  Csesar  during  the 


338  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

weeks  that  followed.  His  mental  processes  inter- 
ested me  hugely.  He  has  an  enviable  faculty  of  con- 
centrating upon  the  job  in  hand  to  the  complete 
exclusion  of  everything  outside.  He  forgot  Oxford 
in  the  Service,  and  now  seemed  to  have  almost 
forgotten  the  Service  in  his  return  to  Oxford,  and 
to  what  he  calls  civilisation.  He  was  greatly  taken 
up  with  the  design  for  his  wooden  leg.  I  met  him 
after  his  first  visit  to  Roehampton  to  be  measured, 
and  found  him  bubbling  over  with  enthusiasm. 
"Such  legs  and  arms!"  cried  he.  "They  are 
almost  better  than  meat  and  bone  ones.  I  saw  a 
Tommy  with  a  shorter  stump  than  mine  jumping 
hurdles  and  learning  to  kick.  He  was  a  professional 
footballer  once.  Another  with  a  wooden  arm 
could  write  and  even  draw.  In  a  month  or  two's 
time,  when  my  stump  is  healed  solid  and  I  have 
learnt  the  tricks  of  my  new  leg,  it  will  be  a  great 
sport  exercising  it  and  trying  to  find  out  what  it 
can't  do.  A  new  interest  in  life." 

"You  seem  rather  to  like  having  a  leg  blown 
off,"  I  said,  wondering. 

He  is  extraordinarily  exuberant.  I  looked  for 
depression  after  a  month  in  hospital,  but  looked  in 
vain.  He  builds  up  a  future  with  as  much  zest  as 
a  youthful  architect  executes  his  first  commission. 
The  First  in  Greats  is  "off";  Csesar  says  that  he 
has  not  time  to  bother  about  such  things.  "I 
shall  read  History  and  modern  French  and  Russian 
literature.  History  will  do  for  my  Final  Schools, 
and  Literature  for  my  play.  I  shall  learn  Russian. 
Then  when  I  have  taken  my  degree  I  shall  go  in  for 
the  Foreign  Office.  My  wooden  leg  will  actually 
help  me  to  a  nomination,  and  the  exam,  is  nothing. 
It's  not  a  bad  idea;  I  thought  of  it  last  night." 


EPILOGUE:    LIEUTENANT  CAESAR        339 

"You  don't  take  long  over  a  decision,"  I  re- 
marked. 

"I  never  did,"  said  he  calmly. 

When  he  returned  to  Oxford  early  in  November 
he  urged  me  to  pay  him  a  visit.  I  was  in  London 
a  week  or  two  later  and  having  twenty-four  hours 
to  spare  ran  up  to  Oxford,  established  myself  at  the 
Clarendon,  and  summoned  Caesar  to  dine  with  me. 
All  through  the  meal  wonder  grew  upon  me.  For 
my  very  charming  guest  was  an  undergraduate  in 
his  fourth  year,  bearing  no  trace  of  having  been 
anything  else.  We  talked  of  Balzac,  Anatole 
France,  and  Turgeniev.  I  listened  politely  to 
Caesar's  views  upon  German  and  Russian  Church 
music.  I  learned  that  the  scarcity  of  Turkish 
cigarettes  was  causing  him  distress,  that  his  rooms 
were  delightful,  and  that  Oxford  was  a  desert  swept 
clear  of  his  old  friends.  The  war  was  never  once 
referred  to.  His  conversation  abounded  in  slang 
with  which  I  was  not  familiar — I  come  from  the 
other  shop.  It  was  an  insufferable  evening,  and 
I  saw  Caesar  hobble  away  upon  his  crutches  with 
positive  relief.  He  could  use  his  leg  a  little,  but 
the  stump  was  still  rather  sore.  That  hobble  was 
the  one  natural  and  human  thing  about  him. 

I  passed  a  wretched  night,  came  to  a  desperate 
resolution  early  in  the  morning,  and  carried  it  out 
about  nine  o'clock.  Caesar  was  in  his  "  delightful 
rooms."  They  certainly  had  a  pleasant  aspect, 
but  the  furniture  disgusted  me;  it  might  have  been 
selected  by  a  late- Victorian  poet.  I  looked  for  a 
book  or  a  picture  which  might  connect  Caesar  with 
the  R.N.V.R.,  and  looked  in  vain.  He  was  busy 
trampling  upon  the  best  two  years  of  his  life  and 
forgetting  that  he  had  ever  been  a  man.  It  should 


340  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

not  be.  Presently  he  came  in  from  his  bedroom 
and  began  to  talk  in  the  manner  of  the  night  before 
but  I  cut  him  short.  "Csesar,"  I  said  brutally, 
"you  are  no  better  than  an  ass.  Look  at  these 
rooms.  Is  this  the  place  for  a  man  who  has  lived 
and  fought  in  a  motor-boat,  a  battle-cruiser,  and 
a  T.B.D.?  You  have  sunk  a  German  submarine, 
served  in  the  Jutland  Battle,  and  lost  a  leg  in  your 
country's  service.  Hug  these  things  to  your  soul, 
don't  throw  them  away.  Brood  upon  them,  write 
about  them,  for  the  love  of  Heaven  don't  try  to 
forget  them." 

I  saw  his  eyes  light  up,  but  he  said  nothing.  His 
lips  began  to  twitch  and,  knowing  him  as  I  did,  I 
should  have  heeded  their  warning.  But  unchecked 
I  drivelled  on: 

"Are  you  the  man  to  shrink  from  an  effort 
because  of  pain?  Did  you  grouse  when  your  leg 
was  blown  off?  Wring  all  you  can  out  of  the  future. 
Read  History,  join  the  F.O.,  study  Russian.  But 
do  these  things  in  a  manner  worthy  of  Lieutenant- 
Commander  Caesar,  and  don't  try  to  revive  the 
puling  Oxford  spark  that  you  were  two  years  ago 
before  the  war  came  to  sweep  the  rubbish  out  of 
you." 

He  gave  a  clumsy  leap,  tripped  over  his  new  leg, 
and  fell  into  a  chair.  Lying  there  he  laughed  and 
laughed  and  laughed.  How  he  laughed!  Not 
loud,  but  deeply,  thoroughly,  persistently,  as  if  to 
make  up  for  a  long  abstinence. 

"Confound  you!"  I  growled.  "What  the  deuce 
are  you  laughing  at?" 

"  Yout"  said  Csesar  simply. 

At  the  word  the  truth  surged  over  me  in  a 
shameful  flood.  That  preposterous  dinner  with 


EPILOGUE:    LIEUTENANT  OESAR        341 

its  babble  of  Balzac  and  Turgeniev,  Church  music, 
and  Turkish  cigarettes.  These  rooms  stripped  of 
all  reminders  of  two  strenuous  years  of  war.  That 
Oxford  accent  and  the  intolerable  Oxford  slang. 
"Csesar,"  I  shouted,  joining  in  his  exuberant 
laughter,  "you  have  been  pulling  my  leg  all  the 
time." 

"All  the  time,"  said  he.  "My  bedroom  is  full 
of  stuff  that  I  cleared  out  of  here.  Last  night, 
Copplestone,  your  ever-lengthening  face  was  a 
lovely  study,  and  I  have  wondered  ever  since  how 
I  kept  in  my  laughter." 

"You  young  villain,"  cried  I,  overjoyed  to  find 
that  Csesar  was  still  my  bright  friend  of  the 
R.N.V.R.  "How  shall  I  ever  get  even  with  you?" 

"I  owe  you  some  reparation,"  said  he,  "and  here 
it  is."  He  hobbled  over  to  his  desk  and  drew  out 
a  great  roll  of  paper.  "This  is  the  first  instalment; 
there  are  lots  more  to  come.  For  the  last  month 
I  have  been  trying  to  remember,  not  to  forget.  I 
am  writing  of  everything  that  I  have  done  and 
seen  and  heard  and  felt  during  those  two  splendid 
years.  Everything.  It  will  run  to  reams  of  paper 
and  months  of  time.  When  it  is  finished  you  shall 
have  it  all.  Take  it,  saturate  yourself  hi  it,  add 
your  spells  to  it.  We  will  stir  up  the  compound  of 
Copplestone  and  Csesar  until  it  ferments,  and  then 
distil  from  the  mass  a  Great  Work.  It  shall  be  ours, 
Copplestone — yours  and  mine.  Will  you  have  me 
as  your  partner. " 

"With  the  greatest  pleasure  in  life,"  I  cried. 

We  discussed  our  plans  in  full  detail,  and  parted 
the  best  of  friends.  Csesar  is  rekindling  the  ashes 
of  a  life  which  I  had  thought  to  be  extinguished; 
soon  there  will  be  a  great  and  glowing  fire  of  realised 


342  THE  SILENT  WATCHERS 

memory  which  will  keep  warm  the  years  that  are 
to  come.  He  has  solved  the  problem  of  his  immedi- 
ate future.  But  what  of  those  others,  those  tens  of 
thousands,  who  when  the  war  is  over  will  seek  for 
some  means  to  keep  alive  the  fires  which  years  of 
war  have  lighted  in  their  hearts?  Are  they  to  be 
merged,  lost,  in  the  old  life  as  it  was  lived  before 
1914?  Are  they  to  degenerate  slowly  but  surely 
into  S.O.B.s,  intent  only  upon  earning  a  living 
somehow,  playing  bad  golf,  or  looking  on  at  football 
matches?  I  do  not  know,  I  have  no  data,  and  it  is 
rather  painful  to  indulge  oneself  in  speculation. 

This  sketch  was  published  a  year  ago.  Two 
months  after  I  had  visited  Csesar  at  Oxford  he 
called  upon  me  in  London.  He  was  in  uniform, 
and  explained  that  he  had  quickly  grown  tired  of 
sick  leave  and  had  recalled  himself  to  Service. 
"I  can't  go  to  sea  again,"  said  he,  "with  this  timber 
toe,  but  I  am  at  least  good  for  an  office  job  ashore." 
But  Caesar  was  not  made  to  fit  the  stool  of  any 
office,  and  when  I  last  heard  from  him  was  an 
observer  in  the  R.N.A.S. 

In  this  fashion  he  has  rounded  off  his  experiences, 
and  basely  failed  me,  his  friend  and  biographer, 
of  the  scanty  data  with  which  to  answer  the  ques- 
tion set  forth  in  the  first  sentence  of  this  chapter. 


THE   END 


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